Oblivion
by nanonox
Summary: [AU following episode 10: In the Sea of the Sky] The Ronin Warriors are reunited, but their triumph is short-lived when the Ancient One reveals there is another armor with devastating powers that they must find before Talpa reclaims it.
1. Chapter 1: Humanity

_Screech_. _Boom_. _Crackle_. A brilliant yellow flash split the sky, striking the ground like lightning. There was a single, agonized cry, and as quickly as the light appeared it was gone, leaving a green, hazy firmament in its wake.

Rowen's gaze dropped to the withered patch of grass where the Warlord had been standing. The image of the Ogre's mask splitting played over again in his mind and his stomach churned uneasily. The armor was not occupied by mindless shadows or wielded by a demon. He was a man.

He shifted his gaze upward to the darkened sky, anticipating something. But nothing came: the clouds were void, undeterred, as if the man had not just vanished among them.

And there it was again. That single thought echoed back: _Anubis is a man_. As the words repeated themselves, his heart skipped a heavy beat. Had Ryo seen him? Did the others know?

A raucous sound interrupted the frantic, rapid thoughts firing through Rowen's mind, at first warbled and strangely alien. Finally he recognized it as yelling – familiar voices, cheering and calling to him, drawing his attention over the horizon. Armored hands waved high in the distance and a relieved laugh escaped him.

"Are you guys alright?" Sage's voice was overlapped with an ecstatic cry from Mia as they came into view, trailed by Kento, Cye, and a chuffing White Blaze toting Yuli on his back. Rowen raised his free hand to wave in acknowledgment.

There was a noisy clattering behind him that cut through his elation. _Ryo_. Rowen turned on his heels and scanned the field for his comrade, panicked as his search turned up empty. That clanging echoed again and he moved quickly toward it, securing his bow to his back.

"Ryo?" Rowen called, his voice quivering with dread. He was suddenly aware of his heartbeat pounding loudly in his ears, leaving behind a dull, hollow ringing that seemed to drown out all other sound. Finally, he heard a low grumbling groan, unmistakable, and he jogged in its direction until a familiar bolt of red came into his sight. "Ryo!"

He found the man crumpled against the ground, his armor scuffed, its plates shifting with each laborious breath. With heroic effort, blue eyes lifted to meet Rowen's gaze, and a small, pained smirk perked up on Ryo's lips.

"Hey," Ryo managed.

"You alright?" His comrade's relief was palpable.

"Of course I am. You know I don't go down that easy." He wheezed a bit as he shifted his weight to one elbow. Rowen's hand reached out to him and he stretched up to grasp it, carefully pulling up to his feet. It was in that moment he realized just how exhausted he truly was; his lungs burned, his head whirled, and his feet stumbled under trembling knees. Rowen drew his friend's arm up and over his shoulders, coiling his free arm firmly around Ryo's waist to support him.

Their companions had closed the distance between them now. Yuli dismounted from White Blaze, who approached his master with caution, nudging his leg before tenderly bunting his forehead against him. Ryo laughed, breathless, his palm stroking the tiger's ears reassuringly.

"You're both safe," Mia breathed, clasping her hands together in joy. "We did it."

"I wasn't sure we would ever see this day." Sage's eyes softened as he looked over Rowen's face.

"The Ronin Warriors are together again at last," Cye affirmed. Kento clapped his friend on the shoulder resolutely, a grin cracking across his face.

"Yeah, now we're unstoppable!" he declared. "Time to go crush Talpa and those brainless bucketheads for good!"

"Yes," Mia agreed, "with the five armors reunited, you have the power to defeat the Dynasty and save those Talpa has captured." Her gaze shifted to Yuli and she offered him a small, empathetic smile. "Toyama can finally be returned to normal."

"Your search is not yet over, Ronin Warriors."

The voice had an ethereal quality to it, haunting and yet soothing all at once. Somehow, it seemed to reverberate from all directions, surrounding the warriors in the empty field. A recognizable jingling followed the voice, and White Blaze raised his head to roar in greeting.

"Who is that?" Yuli pondered aloud, drawing nearer to Mia and surveying the landscape with vigilant grey eyes.

"The Ancient One," Sage declared.

"I am pleased with your success in reuniting." The man seemed to materialize out of nothing, emerging suddenly from the vacant horizon and approaching only close enough to be in their sight. He quietly nodded to Mia, his eyes obscured still by the shadow of his hat brim. "Young lady, I commend your bravery and willingness to guide these warriors on their journey. Your resilience gives them the determination to fight and grow stronger. I hope you and the boy have been spared from harm."

The woman flashed a sheepish smile and humbly nodded. "The world depends on them," she replied, "we'll do whatever it takes to help them take down the Dynasty."

His attention turned to the young men before him. "You have all learned to harness the power of your armors, and your teamwork and concern for one another will be of great importance in the battles to come. But you are not yet ready to face Talpa and his Dynasty."

"What?" Kento's shoulders tensed. "Why not?"

"There is another."

"Another Ronin Warrior?" Ryo's brow furrowed and his gaze shifted to Mia, whose own expression was of bewilderment and uncertainty.

"A tenth armor," the Ancient corrected.

"Tenth?"

The man had expected this question. But as he prepared to speak again, he noticed an expression he had not anticipated: disquiet. Rowen watched him with an intense gaze, visibly unsettled by his words.

"You have already figured it out, haven't you, Rowen of the Strata?"

His companions' eyes moved toward him. Suddenly it was as if the weight of the world had come to rest atop his shoulders, so much heavier than Ryo's armored arm and bearing down on him in a way he was unable to escape. That uneasy quiver churned his stomach again, and his chest felt as though it had filled with lead butterflies.

"Anubis is human." The words were as heavy as his heart as they trembled from his lips. "He's a man like us."

"That's impossible," Kento asserted.

"No, I saw him. His face. I split his helmet with an arrow."

"It has to be some kind of Dynasty trick! There's no way that guy is human!"

"Their armors are the same as ours, aren't they?" Rowen turned his attention from his friend, who grunted and growled in disbelief. His eyes zeroed in on the Ancient with unwavering fierceness. When he spoke next, there was no longer doubt or questioning in his words. "All of the Warlords are human, with armor just like us."

"Yes, Rowen. The Dark Warlords wear the same armor as your own."

There was a spark of commotion as the other four gasped and protested. Patiently, calmly, the Ancient waited.

"How can that be?" Sage demanded.

"What does that mean for us?" Cye interjected, his tone soft and troubled.

"Your armors have the capacity for evil, just as the Warlords' armors have the capacity for good. But I have no doubt in the strength of your spirits. So long as your hearts flow with goodness, Talpa cannot control you." His head lowered. "Your greatest obstacle, however, is still to come."

"Another armor," Ryo said thoughtfully. "But there are only four Warlords."

"This armor is not worn by a Warlord. It has been hidden from Talpa for over four-hundred years, and it is quite possibly the most dangerous of them all, with the power to devastate much of the planet. You must understand that your armors, and the armors of the Warlords, each possess a virtue. Trust, wisdom, justice, life force, righteousness, loyalty, serenity, peity, obedience." His tone softened, his words tinged with severity. "But this armor could not be imbued with a virtue. By its nature, it seeks nothingness, and at its core is the very essence of the Dynasty's evil."

The warriors contemplated his words, quietly exchanging glances before he continued. "Talpa knows that together, you hold immense power, but you are only capable of defeating him if he does not have this armor in his possession. His search for it will undoubtedly deepen now that he knows you have been reunited. Should he reclaim it, the mortal world as we know it will end. You _must_ find it before he does."

"So who wields this armor?" Sage queried.

"I am afraid I cannot offer you much help in this endeavor," came the Ancient's cryptic reply. "I can only give you the information you need to find it. Remember these words."

 _Buried within a forest of bones,_

 _Swathed in a shroud of unparalleled shadow._

Focused on the verse, Mia was pulled back to reality by something brushing against her palm. Yuli had quietly slipped his small hand into the curl of her fingers and inched closer until he was safely against her. Though he was trying mightily to appear brave, his face betrayed the fear the Ancient's words had struck him with. She gave his fingers a tender squeeze.

"Be careful, Ronin Warriors. Trust in your armor and each other, and you will find the fortitude necessary to succeed."

Just as mysteriously as he had appeared, the man retreated from the company and vanished from the skyline, leaving them to stand in silence in his wake. There was a heaviness looming now, something dark and intangible but somehow unescapable.

"We should really take you home," Mia said, her words intended for Ryo but directed at the crew in its entirety, "you need to rest." Her voice was soft and kind as always, but underneath was a clear, grim tone of realization.


	2. Chapter 2: Riddles

_It is quite possibly the most dangerous of them all_.

He had been trying ceaselessly to sleep, but after what seemed like hours of tossing, turning, and tumultuous thoughts, Ryo surrendered, pushing up in bed to lean back against his headboard and turning his head to the window. His gaze stared through the horizon, illuminated with that haunting green glow Toyama was infected by.

 _Your armors have the capacity for evil_.

A chill crawled down his spine. He managed a deep breath, but it did nothing to soothe him; a burning sensation rolled over in his stomach, bringing with it a weight that seemed to pull down right through him. It was an inescapable truth. One he desperately wished he had not been told.

"Looks like you're sleeping about as well as the rest of us." Sage's voice cut through his thoughts, a startling but welcome distraction. Ryo turned his head to find the blond leaned cross-armed against the doorframe.

"Yeah," he muttered, garnering a frown from his companion. There was a theatrical yawn somewhere behind him, and a growing shadow signaled the approach of another as Sage turned his head over his shoulder to find Kento with one arm stretched overhead.

"Speak for yourself," he grumbled, "I was sleeping just fine until you had to get up and go stalking around."

"Hey, lay off, Kento," Sage warned, "this hasn't been an easy day for any of us." His sternness quickly awakened the warrior, and his eyes widened at the tone.

"Whoa, easy." Kento put his hands up in defense. "What's got you bugging?"

"Are you sure Rowen was the one in outer space?" Ryo quipped. "Did you hear _anything_ the Ancient One said?"

"Sure I did," Kento huffed, "but we can't let that get into our heads. The Warlords might be human like us, but we're _not_ like them. They let Talpa control their armors. We're better than that. No one controls us but _us_."

"So what about this other armor, then?" Ryo straightened up and leaned forward, bringing his elbows to rest casually on his knees. "The Ancient couldn't even tell us who – or _what_ – wields it. We have no idea what we're about to be up against. All we know is this armor is the _essence of evil_."

"Hey, we got this." Kento stepped past Sage and planted himself on the edge of Ryo's bed. "We're the Ronin Warriors. If we can survive volcanoes and outer space, we can handle an armor of pure evil." He offered Ryo a cocky smirk and patted his shoulder warmly. It was a hard gesture to remain firm in the face of, and finally Wildfire had to crack a smile and laugh.

"You sure are full of yourself, you know that?"

"Come on, man, work with me here."

Sage shook his head lightly, the slightest roll in his eyes. He turned his attention to the hall outside of Ryo's room now to find Cye wandering their direction, groggy and gently rubbing at one eye. "Now _you're_ the one waking everyone up, Kento."

"What's all this?" Cye inquired, his eyes first meeting Sage's before craning his head in to peer through the darkness at the men seated on the bed. "Pep talk I wasn't told about?"

"Just this lunkhead ready to charge into battle with the spirit of evil," Ryo mused.

"Now you know I'm always up for a fight." Kento placed his curled fist into his palm. "But the Ancient didn't say anything about battling. We don't even know that the armor is being used by anyone. It could just be a hollow hunk of metal."

"Guess you listened better than I thought." Sage considered his comrade's statement, nodding a bit to himself. "He said it wasn't worn by a Warlord, and that it had the Dynasty's evil at its core. That could mean anything."

"Right, and it sounded like reclaiming it would be easy," Cye noted, "just a matter of Talpa finding it. If someone was controlling it, wouldn't it be harder for him to take it back?"

Footsteps interrupted before anyone could answer. Rowen leaned through a doorway now, both hands planted on the frame to support him. He seemed far more awake than his companions, and his brow perked up at them quizzically.

"When did you guys get up?" His gaze shifted between Sage and Cye. "Ryo's supposed to be resting."

"Well, he isn't." Sage shifted his stance to lean his back against the door, facing Rowen. "And neither are you."

"Looks like that makes all of us," Rowen remarked, leaning to the side just enough to shift his vantage point and peer into the room where he could see Kento. "Hey, since you're all awake anyway, come help us figure out what that verse the Ancient One gave us means."

Sage pushed off from the doorframe and let his arms fall slack to his sides, Cye following closely behind. Kento flashed a sardonic smirk and eyeroll at Ryo, gathering another laugh and a shaking head as he kicked the sheets off and climbed out of bed. Shuffling out of the bedroom, they trailed along behind Rowen leading the way to the office.

The sound of rapid-fire clacking met them at the door as Mia feverishly typed away at her computer. She paused briefly to stare at the screen in contemplation, deep green eyes unwavering from the cursor flashing before them.

"Forest of bones," she murmured. "Unparalleled shadow."

"Man, everything about this sounds wicked," Ryo remarked, his voice startling the young woman and drawing her attention over her shoulder.

"The legend's other verses each revealed where you and the others could be found," Mia noted, "and those places were significant because they aligned with the elements of your armors. The volcano, the caves, the sea, the mountain, the sky, they all correlate to your powers."

"But the Ancient didn't mention any element for this armor." Rowen looked to his friends for confirmation and a scattering of nods responded.

"No, but he _did_ say it seeks nothingness." The words had only just breathed past her lips before she was struck with a thought and returned to her keyboard, her fingertips fluttering expertly across the keys. Silence hung heavy in the air as the warriors waited, anxiously watching characters whiz by on her screen. "Death?"

"What?" Cye's brows furrowed and he took an apprehensive step forward to study the monitor.

"The first result when searching for 'nothingness' is 'the nothingness of death'," she continued. "Could it be—with the other parts of the verse—"

"Buried in a forest of bones." Sage leaned forward and set his palms on Mia's desk, turning his chin down to look at her. "A cemetery?"

"It makes sense," she agreed.

"But there has to be hundreds of cemeteries," Kento lamented. "How the heck are we supposed to know which one? We can't just drive to every graveyard in the country."

"That second part must mean something. In a shroud of unparalleled shadow. It has to be a clue as to _where_ we can find it."

"I think I know somewhere it could be." The small voice chirped from the hallway behind them and they turned to see Yuli, barely awake with tufts of his dark hair sticking up in all directions. A massive yawn whined past his lips and he scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand.

Cye exchanged a skeptical glance with Sage and Rowen before addressing the boy, his tone gentle but unsure, "and where is that?"

"The legend said it was covered in shadows, right? There's an old cemetery the kids at school have talked about, on Mount Minako," he replied. "They call it Muhimura. It's somewhere in the woods off the mountain trail, in a grove of really tall cedar trees that cast big shadows." He stretched his hands out to either side to demonstrate his point. "The graves are all grown over and it's supposed to be really haunted. Everyone dares each other to spend the night there and bets on who will stay the whole time, but no one ever does. I'm pretty sure it's from the Muromachi period, too, just like the legend."

" _Muhimura_ ," Mia mumbled thoughtfully, "Yuli, that's it!"

"Huh?"

"That name, it means unparalleled! A shroud of unparalleled shadow. Even if it isn't exactly right, I think it's a step in the right direction."

"Do you know how to get to this place?" Ryo's focus moved to Yuli, who was now wide awake and very aware of their attention. His large grey eyes shifted absentmindedly upward as he thought about his question.

"I—I think so," he stammered, clearly skimming his mind for the information. "The mountain road comes to a dead end, you have to keep going on foot. It isn't on any map, everyone just talks about the landmarks you're supposed to follow so you know you're going the right way."

"Sounds promising," Rowen said doubtfully.

"Come on, where's your sense of adventure?" Kento jested. "An old, haunted graveyard in the middle of the mountains that there aren't any maps to get to. Sounds like a party to me."

"Can you take anything seriously?" Sage craned his head to look over his shoulder at the man, whose only response was a cheeky grin and a thumbs-up. He straightened up and turned to face him, his face betraying his agitation. "Kento."

"Hey, chill out," Ryo cautioned, "you know he's just messing around."

"Exactly," the blond sighed, crossing his arms.

"So Mount Minako, then?" Accustomed to his friend's shenanigans, Cye turned his attention directly over Kento to Mia, trying to corral the focus back to the task at hand.

"I guess so," she replied, nodding carefully. "You all really should do your best to get some sleep. Minako is in Kyoto. That's a four-hour drive from here, and we aren't entirely sure where we're going once we get there."

"We need to be ready for whatever might be waiting for us." Rowen's tone was bleak. "The Ancient warned us that Talpa will be looking for the armor. You can bet he's going to be watching us, and something tells me Anubis won't be very happy next time we see him, either."

His words were sobering. The smirk faded from Kento's face and he looked across his companions, who each nodded quietly in agreement. Mia pushed up from her chair and took a final look over her computer monitor before turning it off, leading the way out of the office with a gentle hand resting on Yuli's back.


	3. Chapter 3: Darkness Falls

Ominous black clouds broke and gave way to a clear azure sky. The eerie green haze that had permeated every inch of ground for miles appeared to rapidly retreat now, crawling back into the darkness of the Toyama skyline.

Yuli straightened up to watch the landscape roll by in wonder. He so deeply missed blue skies and visible daylight, both of which felt like distant memories in the perpetual Dynasty twilight. Lost in his daydream, he did not notice the squabbling warriors behind him, the only sound in the otherwise silent vehicle.

"It's not like anyone's missing it." Kento was on the defensive against Cye, who rubbed his forehead tensely.

"Do I want to ask why you know how to hotwire a van?"

"It's a useful skill!"

"Well, it certainly made this trip easier, anyway." Mia came to the Ronin's defense, trying her best to pacify the bickering. Her efforts only fueled the fire; instead of graciously accepting her contribution, Kento smirked haughtily across the cab at his friend. Cye's blue-green eyes rolled dramatically and he set his jaw against his knuckles, elbow propped on his seat's arm rest. It was a gesture Mia glimpsed in the rearview mirror, and a small giggle escaped her.

"So have you ever been to this place, Yuli?" Sage's voice interrupted his longing reverie. The boy peeked back to the warrior through the gap between his seat and the door.

"Um," he replied hesitantly, "kind of." His voice trailed off, unsure what the right answer to the question was. These conversations could go either way with Sage, an ever-cautious young man unlikely to appreciate youthful recklessness.

On the other hand, appearing lost and aimless was not an option.

"I've been to the woods with my friends. We never went any farther than the hiking trail, though." He squiggled back in his seat to settle his nerves. "The whole place is pretty spooky."

"And does anyone live there?"

"I don't think so. It's really old." Yuli chewed on the inside of his cheek a little. "A lot of kids say they've seen someone in the graveyard, like a ghost or something. That's why no one has ever stayed all night."

" _Shiry_ _ō_ ," Sage noted. "A type of lingering spirit."

"Typical kid stuff," Rowen remarked. "There's no such thing as ghosts."

"No, but maybe they're seeing something else," Ryo said meaningfully.

"The armor?"

"You think the armor just goes walking around?" Kento turned his skepticism on Ryo.

"I don't know," Ryo huffed. "It makes more sense than ghosts. And we _don't know_ that the armor's empty. Don't assume anything. We could be walking into something really dangerous here."

"The Ancient said it could rival all five of us together," Cye agreed.

"Yeah, well, we'll see about that," Kento quipped.

"There you go again." The gentle Ronin leaned over on his arm rest, "your ego is going to get us in a lot of trouble one of these days."

"Ego? What ego?" Kento crossed his arms.

"Oh, please, like you don't know—"

"Stop fighting," Mia ordered, "I can't concentrate with all of you making such a fuss!"

Mountains erupted over the horizon as layers of stony blue painted against the afternoon sky. The smoothly paved city road tapered to a single lane and finally surrendered to rocky gravel, ahead a bumpy, winding path through infinite fields of green. This change of scenery seemed to soothe the van's internal commotion, as all eyes wandered out the windows to watch it pass.

The ascent was a gentle, snaking slope that traced around the base of the mountain. Green vegetation was now speckled with vibrant splashes of color, from occasional purple wisteria to a scattering of bright pink cherry blossoms. Tracks of well-worn gravel disappeared, evidence to the road's decreased use as it wove deeper into the forest.

As the van rolled through a covered wooden bridge, the road's slope took a steep slant downward. Yuli straightened up in his seat to peer over the hood.

"Well, here it is," Mia said, carefully pressing on the brakes to bring the vehicle to a stop. The gravel ended abruptly, remaining bits of rock spreading out among a smattering of trees. "Dead end." She glanced to the boy to find he was already unbuckling his seatbelt and had popped the door open. "H-hey!"

The warriors were quick on the draw as they heard Yuli's door open, up from their seats in seconds. Kento slid the van's side door back and was the first on the ground as the boy hopped out to look around.

"Easy, Yuli," Rowen cautioned, climbing out after Kento and followed closely by Cye, Sage, and Ryo in turn. White Blaze had awakened and craned his head carefully out of the cab, chuffing lightly.

Yuli turned in place, skimming the trees quietly. "There!" His declaration was punctuated by a pointing finger, aimed a short distance behind them.

"I don't see anything," Kento said. The words had barely escaped him as the child started jogging up the road.

"Hey, wait up!" Ryo was on his heels, gravel crunching noisily underfoot and revealing the others were not far behind. Mia called out to them in exasperation, quickly pulling the side door to the van shut before following.

Yuli skidded to a stop only meters from the wooden bridge, and as they approached behind him they found what he had been pointing to: a peculiar cherry blossom tree, partially obscured by the cluster of trees that lined the road. While one side of the tree bore familiar sugar pink blossoms, a distinct line trailed down the center of its branches, separating the other side from which snow-white flowers bloomed.

"That's… strange," Sage remarked, "it's a hybrid?" He stepped closer to the tree, placing a hand on its trunk. "It's been grafted with something else."

"Look." Yuli hopped just past the tree to a thin, barely-there dirt path. "This is it. It marks the trail." His eyes sparkled excitedly. "Come on, I remember the way from here!"

As he hurried off down the path, Sage glanced back to everyone else. Cye offered a small shrug and started off behind the boy. Though Yuli seemed perfectly confident in his knowledge of the way, his companions were not as convinced, and became less so as the path grew longer and more obscure. He occasionally stopped to look around, noticing the smallest details – a white ribbon tied around a branch, an 'x' of spray paint on a long-forgotten electric pole. Taking a sudden, steep downturn, the path meandered into deeper woods, and from behind they could only see his small, bright blue sneakers shuffling along the dirt.

"How far is this place supposed to be?" Ryo called up to the boy, and suddenly he stopped. Leaning over to crawl underneath the dense foliage, they emerged on a river bank beside him.

"There used to be a bridge." Yuli's tone had lowered and a frown curled on his lips. He skimmed the bank, and finally found a few splintered pieces of wood anchored into stone. "Someone must have torn it up."

"Well, come on, then," Kento said. He unbuttoned his jeans and tugged them off to expose his underarmor, walking over to hand them to the boy before squatting down.

"Uh, huh?"

"It's not that deep." He patted his back. "Get on. And keep those out of the water."

Doing as he was told, Yuli clutched the denim to sandwich it between his chest and the warrior's back as he climbed up. He wrapped his arms tight around the man's collar and Kento coiled his arms under his knees to secure him before wading into the river. The stream was calm, flowing high around his thighs as he took slow, purposeful steps. Despite a brief stumble over a buried rock, he easily strode to the other side.

"You guys coming or what?" Kento called as he turned around to face his comrades, still huddled on the other side of the river. After a moment of hesitation, they followed suit, stripping to their underarmor to cross. Ryo lifted Mia into his arms as White Blaze slinked quietly into the water to paddle his way across.

"It's not much farther now," Yuli stated. He motioned to the trees dotting the small clearing, markedly different from those on the other side of the river with tall, lean trunks. "Just past the cedar trees!"

White Blaze growled a bit and shook the water loose from his fur as the warriors tugged their clothes back over their armor. Mia had the head start this time, following closely behind Yuli as he hurried along the trees.

"See the rope?" He pointed up one of the trunks, noting a thin piece of woven yellow rope tied around it.

"Yes," Mia acknowledged, "but why—?" She trailed off as she noticed another trunk with the same flag and realized that this was what the boy was following.

But just as suddenly as she had noticed the flagging system, it ended. Yuli stopped in his tracks and looked around with furrowed brows as his friends caught up. The forest looked indistinguishable now, with no discernible trail and no further markings denoting the way. Cye, Ryo, and Rowen wandered a bit in each direction to spread out among the trees.

"Looks like a dead end," Sage said, "for real this time."

"I—I don't know the way from here." Yuli shook his head a bit.

"Hey!" Cye's voice called out, "over here!"

Looking to the west, they found the man waving them his way and quickly obeyed. As they moved toward him, the cedar trees cleared away, revealing a single large lilac tree, its branches filled with plush purple blossoms that seemed to glow in the late sunlight.

"Whoa," Kento was the first to approach the tree, but as he did, his step slowed.

"What's up?" Ryo followed, stopping in his tracks as he found what had caught his comrade's attention: a tall, thin tombstone jutted from the soil nearby, its base surrounded by lilies. Moving closer revealed more of the ancient memorials, worn by time but in excellent shape. The only barrier between the boneyard and the forest seemed to be a scattering of trees around its perimeter, and a leaf-littered trail crawled through the graves.

"Man, you weren't kidding," Ryo muttered, "this place is creepy."

"Come on." Rowen stepped on to the leafy path, "let's get this over with."

"What should we be looking for, exactly?" Sage looked over his shoulder to Mia. As his eyes moved, he caught a glimpse of something and stopped briefly, his brows furrowed. There was a house settled just beyond the lush purple tree, with a thatched roof and rice paper sliding door. It appeared to be in a similar condition to the graves it was built alongside, aged but structurally sound. He watched it briefly for signs of life and, finding none, continued his path.

"It could be anywhere," Mia replied. "You and Kento were encased in rock."

"You don't think it's _in_ a grave?" Ryo stopped and turned to face her seriously.

"I'm drawing the line at digging up old dead people," Kento declared, putting his hands up.

"N-no," Mia managed, "but maybe we should be looking for an open plot, or a mausoleum, or an unusual headstone."

"I'll take a volcano over this any day." Ryo turned to his side to make his way down another footpath. White Blaze lingered near the lilac tree, standing behind Mia and Yuli with his fierce eyes monitoring the forest.

"Tell me about it," Cye agreed, "I don't even hear any birds around here." As the words escaped him, he realized that he had not seen _any_ wildlife since they had crossed the river. He looked up into the tree canopy incredulously.

"Can I help you with something?"

The voice was jarring in the silence of the cemetery, resonating against the tombstones. All eyes moved ahead to find a young woman standing among the graves. Her presence was calm and yet intense. She was peculiar in appearance, with coppery suntanned skin and a long, straight nose. Deep brown hair hung past her hips in a ponytailed braid, and halos of gold glinted in her dark eyes.

She waited another moment for their answer before continuing, "are you lost?"

"Uh, no, ma'am." Ryo was the first to respond, "sorry, who are you?"

"I'm the caretaker." Her reply had a bite of coldness to it. She wiggled her left hand, covered in a thick suede glove and clutching a pair of metal shears and a large knife. "Who are _you_?"

"My name's Ryo," he replied, straightening up at the stern change in tone. She watched him keenly for a few seconds before glancing at each of his companions in turn.

"It's a bit late to be visiting a graveyard, isn't it, Ryo?" Her gaze moved back to him, unsettling in its intensity.

"You're right," Mia agreed, gently reaching down to take Yuli's hand, "we should be going."

"Going?" She perked a brow. "You're not from around here, are you?" She watched as the men exchanged skeptical glances. "There is no 'going' around here after dark. These woods are very dangerous. Even I don't travel after nightfall." Her eyes moved upward to direct their attention to the canopy. Time had passed faster than they realized, the sky now painted purple and pink by dusk.

There was an uneasy silence among them. She watched them sternly another moment, then let out a small, agitated huff through her nose. "If you're okay sleeping on the floor, you can stay with me for the night. I wouldn't feel right chasing you out of my cemetery just for you to wind up in another one."

It seemed to be a warning they understood perfectly. Ryo peered over his shoulder to Mia, who responded with an uncertain, nervous shrug.

"Thank you, Miss—" Cye offered politely.

"Come on. We can do that inside." She cut the gentle Ronin off as she walked down the path through the graves toward the house. "You don't want to be in the graveyard after sundown."

"W-why not?" Yuli managed apprehensively. She stopped just short of the house to set her dark gaze on the boy.

"Wolves." Her tone was matter-of-fact, but a wry smile perked on her lips. "What did you think I was going to say, ghosts?" She seemed amused by the anxious look she received in response and stepped up the small stairs leading to the house, drawing the door open and waiting for the company to join her.


	4. Chapter 4: Muhimura no Shiryō

The caretaker's house was more inviting than the warriors had anticipated. It was styled traditionally, with an open, welcoming floor plan, hand-painted fusuma, and shōji strategically designed to take advantage of the forest's natural light during the day. Sage was the first to remove his shoes before stepping fully inside, and his comrades quickly followed suit.

The woman drew the door shut behind them and removed her boots before illuminating a lantern set on the floor nearby. It was as she moved to the center of the room to light another that it became noticeable how out of place she seemed. Despite these very traditional surroundings, she was starkly modern, dressed in denim jeans and a black tank top.

"There's a washroom if you need to freshen up," she said, motioning to a room beyond as she pulled the suede gloves off her hands.

"Thank you," Sage's response was polite as everyone quietly surveyed the home. "I'm sorry, I don't think we caught your name." There was a small, self-conscious laugh from the woman.

"No, _I'm_ sorry." She stashed her gloves away and cracked the first true smile since their meeting, revealing a radiant but unique sort of beauty. "I'm Iris." She nodded her head a bit, "you'll have to forgive me, I'm not the most courteous host. I don't get visitors very often."

"No, I can't imagine you would," Sage agreed. "I'm Sage. This is Cye, Rowen, and Kento, and Mia and Yuli."

"Well met, Sage." Her gaze drifted down to White Blaze, who had cautiously approached her. "And who is this?"

"That's White Blaze," Ryo replied. "He can stay outside, if he bothers you."

"Oh no, I like kitties," she said cheerily, offering her hand for the tiger to sniff. Doing so, he gently nudged at her knuckles, and she tenderly stroked his ears in return. "Even big ones." She looked them over again. "I have to admit, you're a very unusual group for me, even without the tiger." She moved to a small shelf and removed a towel, wiping her hands as she continued, "I'm used to the gaggles of little boys, about your age, dragging their sleeping bags in here thinking they're going to have a slumber party in the tombstones." Her attention had turned to Yuli, "you haven't done that, have you?"

"N-no, ma'am," Yuli stammered.

"Good." She offered her hand to him kindly. " _Muhimura no Shiry_ _ō_ , it's a pleasure."

"Wait, _you're_ the ghost?" He reached up to shake her hand incredulously.

"I am."

"So you're the one scaring the kids who come out here?" Kento asked, an entertained tone in his voice.

"Of course. That's half the fun of living in a _haunted_ graveyard." Iris smiled, "besides, they can't stay out there anyway. At least it gives them a good story to go home with."

"What do you do, exactly?" Cye's interest had been piqued and his brow perked.

"Depends. Sometimes I just sneak around the graves a bit, snap some branches, rustle the leaves. Other times, I let them catch a glimpse of me in the corner of their eyes." She laughed. "When that happens, they're out of here faster than bats out of hell."

Ryo and Rowen exchanged dubious glances. Her mannerisms were disarming, cheerful and kind, but it was undeniable how odd a presence she was.

"So now you can tell your friends you've been face to face with the dreaded ghost of Muhimura." Iris gave Yuli a wink, "no one has to know I'm not quite dead yet." When he responded a small giggle of his own, she looked back up to everyone else. "Is anyone hungry? I was about to make dinner."

"Oh man, I'm _starving_ ," Kento heaved.

"Watch it, Kento will eat you out of house and home if you let him," Cye warned.

"So two plates for the big guy, got it." She flashed another smile, this time in Kento's direction, before walking off toward the kitchen. It was an offer the man was not about to argue with, and he grinned at Cye before catching sight of the stern look on Sage's face.

"Hey, what's the matter?"

"I don't know, something doesn't feel right," Sage replied. "Something about her."

"She seems nice to me."

"No, I feel it, too," Rowen added.

"I think you're just creeped out by the graveyard thing," Kento asserted with a shrug.

"Well, one thing's for sure, we didn't find anything here," Ryo said carefully.

"No," Mia agreed, her voice soft. "I don't think it's here, either."

"Well, then it sounds to me like everyone just needs to kick back and relax for the night." Kento took a few steps in the direction Iris had disappeared. "Do you mind if we sit down?"

"Not at all," Iris called back, "make yourselves comfortable."

The man fully ignored the harsh look he was getting from Sage and made his way into the next room. It was clear their host had already come through and reset the table with extra zabutons, as well as a fresh pot of tea. Cye followed closely behind his friend, and their companions were reluctantly on their heels. Kento planted himself at the table with Cye taking the seat beside him.

The smell of roasting meat and a warm scent of soup wafted into the room, though it did little to ease the tension around the table. Finally, Kento put his hands on his knees and sighed.

"Alright, I'll bite," he huffed, "what's got you all tense?"

"She doesn't strike you as weird?" Rowen asked.

"Of course she does, but I don't think it's weird that she's weird." He shrugged and moved his eyes around the room to signal to their surroundings. "She lives alone in the middle of the woods."

"Yeah, and that's weird."

"What kind of person invites total strangers into her home?" Sage added.

"What kind of person accepts a total stranger's invite into her home?" Iris had emerged without detection from the kitchen, startling the company just as she had earlier. Sage appeared immediately embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't exactly mean—"

She laughed a bit as she set the large tray she was carrying on the table. "Don't worry about it. I'm very aware of how strange I am." She divvied out bowls of soup and rice, along with plates of vegetables and salted pork belly to each of them, before taking her seat and proceeding to pour cups of tea. "It comes with the territory. Not many people would uproot a normal life to live alone in an ancient house and take care of a forgotten graveyard."

"So why did you?" Cye questioned, graciously accepting his cup.

"Old friends," she replied. Seeing the curious look she received in return, she clarified, "their ancestors are buried here. Muhimura is not the cemetery, it's the village it used to belong to. It became a ghost town decades ago, only a few residents stayed to maintain what was left of it. But they died, as old people tend to do, and their children didn't want to take over its care, so the town fell into disrepair. The government planned on exhuming the graves and bulldozing the land. I offered to buy the graveyard, and promised to take care of it as long as I could."

"That's quite a hefty promise," Sage remarked.

"And after all that, we're not even friends anymore." Iris smiled dryly at her admission. "But I'm a woman of my word." She took a deep drink from her cup before noticing that the blond had not touched his food. Setting her cup down, she rested her hands on her knees and took a long look at him. "My goodness, you really _are_ afraid of strangers, aren't you? What's it like, being that paranoid?"

Before he could protest, she reached over and switched his plate of vegetables with her own, promptly taking a large bite of a bean stalk as if to prove its safety. A moment later, Kento coughed, drawing attention across the table.

"Hey," Cye said, setting his hand on his friend's back, "you okay?"

"Must—be—poisoned!" Kento managed to choke out, his hand placed dramatically around his throat. He looked up from under his brows at Sage irreverently and his cough immediately ceased. "Just kidding."

" _Kento_ ," Mia hissed. Iris made a strong effort to hide her amusement, but failed miserably, a fit of bright laughter breaking through and a large smile cracking across her lips.

"I like him," she admitted. "He can stay here with me if you don't want him anymore."

"Come on, guys, lighten up," Kento said. "This nice lady invited us in, made us dinner, and is letting us sleep here, I think we can show a little more gratitude."

"I agree," Cye interjected, quietly taking a bite of his rice.

"You're treating her like some kind of murderer."

"Having your own personal cemetery in the woods _would_ be an excellent cover for a murderer, I will give you that," Iris confided. "But I haven't had to dig a grave in a very long time, and I'd prefer to keep it that way." The statement made Rowen perk his brow.

"You've actually had to dig a grave? Everything out there looks ancient," he noted.

"There are family plots further to the west. Ancestors bought the tombstones centuries ago, just have to carve a new name into them."

"But even the overgrowth looks mature," he pressed. Dark eyes gazed at him for a long moment, a sparkle of amusement glittering within them.

"I get the feeling you are grossly underestimating how old I am, which I appreciate and will take as compliment," she mused. "But it's been a few years. Maybe ten or twelve." Ryo choked a bit on his soup.

"Ten or twelve? How—" He was cut off by the stern look she shot across the table his direction.

"You are not about to ask your host how old she is," she said. He looked back to his soup and quietly sipped at it. White Blaze had circled the table during the discourse and planted himself beside the woman, who he seemed to be watching intently. As silence came over the table, she took notice, perking her brow at the beast and speaking directly to him. "Yes?"

The tiger let out a long, rolling chuff in response, and she looked uncertainly to Ryo, "is that a good sound?"

"Yeah, actually," Ryo remarked, "I think he likes you." She smiled a bit and reached up to gently stroke the tiger's face.

"Man, I'm stuffed." While his comrades were finishing off their meals, Kento had successfully polished off both helpings of his food.

"Did you even _taste it_?" Cye asked.

"Of course! And it was delicious. Thank you." The man bowed his head to Iris, who smirked as her gaze shifted between the two warriors.

"I bet you two are the best friends of the group," she remarked, taking note of their bickering. The two exchanged glances and Cye rolled his eyes with a small smirk at the cheeky grin he was receiving in return. She laughed a bit, getting to her feet to start collecting the empty dishes, a move that Cye followed.

"Let me help you with these," the man offered as he got to his feet and joined by her side. At first taken aback, she smiled pleasantly up at him.

"Thank you, that's very sweet of you." She led the way into the kitchen with the polite Ronin in tow. Ryo furrowed his brows and watched as White Blaze stood and trailed after her.

"Looks like your tiger's got a crush on the ghost lady," Kento teased.


	5. Chapter 5: Scavenger

"So what's our next move?" Ryo's voice was low and he peered around and over his shoulder to be sure their host was not about to surprise them a second time.

"There isn't much I can do until we get back to the lab," Mia confessed. "We'll just have to keep looking."

"I sure hope we didn't bring trouble with us," Cye said uneasily. He was watching Iris through the open doorway, seated at a desk reading; she had quickly gone about her normal business as if the warriors were not even there. The realization that she would be alone and unprotected after their departure had not settled well with the Ronin.

"Well, we'll be here all night," Sage assured him, "and if something _did_ follow us here, I'm sure it will follow us right back out when we leave."

There was a startling, thunderous crash from somewhere in the house. Before even the warriors could respond, Iris was up from her desk and had darted from her room and around the corner to face the sound. The men were quick on their feet behind her, but as they turned the corner on her heels, they were plunged into pure blackness. Ryo's hand lingered over the pocket of his jeans anxiously.

The darkness was short-lived as Iris ignited a lantern overhead. Through the dim light of the tiny flame, they could see a small form huddled on the floor with a splintered, overturned stool.

"Are you alright?" Iris seemed unconcerned about the damaged stool, focusing her eyes on Yuli through the dimness. The boy rubbed tenderly at his backside with a wince.

"Sorry, I was… trying to turn the light on, but I couldn't find the switch," he wheezed, still breathless from his fall.

"Switch?" She sounded incredulous. "My boy, this is a lantern. It's gas. There is no switch." She reached up to adjust the flame, allowing further brightness into the area.

"You don't have power?" Yuli was clambering to his feet, stepping over the busted stool carefully. She laughed a bit.

"No. I don't have power." She looked around before turning her gaze back to him. "Exploring?"

"Um." He rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Yuli!" Mia chastised.

"It's fine. There's nothing in the house that can hurt him." She took the lantern off its hook and offered it down to him. "Here. Just be careful, that's a real flame." He accepted the lantern, looking it over for a moment before nodding.

"Yes, ma'am!" With that, he was off, White Blaze quietly slinking along beside him.

Iris watched after him for a moment, shaking her head before turning back to the men and Mia. "Well. Since you're up, let me show you where you'll be sleeping." She nodded to her side before sliding another division of the room open.

This room appeared to have been modified, with a long, thin glass pane in its ceiling revealing the sky outside, a modern addition to an otherwise unmodern house. Its longest wall featured an unusual mural: an expansive star map that covered it in its entirety, the Milky Way visible swirling through its center. Rowen was the first to approach it, his steps slowing as he marveled at the painstaking accuracy with which the map had been drawn. Names of stars and constellations were illuminated with gold, gleaming against the deep blue and purple watercolors of the sky.

"Starman?" Iris queried. The question drew everyone's attention to her, and Rowen looked over his shoulder at the woman.

"What?"

"No one's ever taken that kind of notice to my star map." She leaned back to sit against the small desk built into the side wall. "Astronomer?"

"Oh, uh, no," Rowen replied. "Not really. More of a physics man, myself."

"Mmm." After a silent moment, she shifted her gaze across to Ryo. "So what were you looking for?"

"Sorry?" He furrowed his brows at the sudden change in her tone. She watched him now with the same cold expression as she had confronted him with in the graveyard.

"No one ends up here by accident. You were looking for something," she said coolly. "What was it? Trouble?"

"What kind of trouble would we be looking for in an old cemetery?" Sage asked carefully.

"You wouldn't be the first crypt crooks I've derailed. The first to use a little boy as a ruse, but—"

"That is _absolutely not_ —" Mia's voice was shrill.

"Whoa, we are _not_ graverobbers," Kento barked.

"Then _what_ were you looking for?" Iris's demeanor remained calm but cold.

"A grave," Ryo offered.

"Convenient."

"I don't know a lot about my family," he added. "I thought if I could find a grave, it'd be a starting point for finding some answers. And I thought one of them might be buried here."

"Really? Who?" It only barely qualified as a question, her tone more demanding than curious. "I know these interments by heart, I could take you right to them."

"Nobushige Sanada," Ryo lied. His heart pounded in his ears as she stared him down, her concentration unwavering.

"No one from the Sanada clan has ever been buried here." Finally, she relented. She seemed satisfied with his explanation and her stance relaxed.

"Sorry we bothered you, then," Ryo managed, frowning.

"No. I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help."

There was another tense beat, abruptly broken by a long, wailing howl outside. Seconds later, wide, blue-grey eyes peered in at them as Yuli hurried in with White Blaze close at his side.

"Did you hear that?" he whimpered.

"I told you there were wolves." Iris started toward the door, "stay inside," she cautioned, reaching into a cabinet in her path to grab a long machete and a lantern. They trailed after her carefully, watching as she stepped into the dark graveyard alone.

"That was close," Cye breathed.

"Yeah, good thinking, Ryo," Sage added.

"Man, she is intense." Kento observed as she moved confidently among the graves, machete at her side and lantern held out ahead.

"Tell me about it," Ryo sighed, "I don't ever want to have to do that again."

"Should we keep an eye on her?" Rowen nodded to the open door.

"Those might not be ordinary wolves," Sage warned.

The woman passed through the cemetery like a wraith, and it was finally clear to the men how the graveyard had come to be thought of as haunted. There was an otherworldliness about her, silent footsteps despite her boots, ageless despite her youth and modern attire. She made her way back to the house, stopping short of the door to sit on the porch outside and observe the landscape.

The day had been long, and one by one, the warriors succumbed to their exhaustion. Mia and Yuli had stayed in the room Iris had designated for her company to sleep, but Rowen was the first to join them. Sage followed soon after, and finally Cye, leaving Kento and Ryo to keep a watchful eye on their host. Just as before, she had returned to what could only be assumed to be routine, gathering a book and sitting out on the porch under the moonlight.

"I'm tapping out, buddy," Kento yawned, patting his companion on the shoulder. Ryo gave him a small smile and set his hand on his friend's knuckles.

"Alright. See you in the morning, Kento."

He was unsure what time it was when Iris closed her book and got to her feet to come inside. While she had passed in and out of the house a few times over the course of the evening without acknowledgment, she took notice of the man now as she drew the door shut.

"You're up late," she remarked. "Insomnia?"

"Yeah," Ryo replied, "what's your excuse?"

"I live in a graveyard." She watched him chuckle a bit before speaking again. "Do you want some tea?"

"Sure." He could not help but notice that her demeanor had once again taken on that disarming quality. As strange and cold as she was, she was somehow also incredibly charming. He got to his feet to follow her into the kitchen as she ignited the charcoal under her kettle. "What's it like living out here like this? I mean, I'm assuming you've lived somewhere that had electricity before." Iris laughed a bit.

"It's certainly different," she admitted, "but you get used to it." She poured a cupful and offered it to him. "So now that your friends are asleep," she stated, "and they don't have to know I didn't buy your little grave-hunting story, why are you here? Really."

"Well, we didn't come to steal anything, if that's what you mean," Ryo huffed. A grin cracked across her face and she shook her head.

"I didn't really think you intended to rob any graves." She leaned back against the cabinet gently. "I wouldn't have invited you in if I did. I just figured you would be more inclined to tell me the truth if I started off with something absurd. Very few things sound bad after someone suggests you're swindling corpses." Ryo stared hard at her for a moment.

"You really are something else," he said.

"Come on. I think it's only fair you tell me the truth."

"Alright." Ryo considered his words carefully, unsure of how to explain in a way that was telling the truth without disclosing too much. "We're on a sort of… scavenger hunt."

"A _scavenger hunt_?" He couldn't quite place her tone, but assumed it to be somewhere between incredulous, bewildered, and mildly offended.

"Now it really sounds like we planned on taking something," he muttered. She shook her head with a confused smile.

"No, I'm not going to ask. I just want to know, what kind of clue brings you to a graveyard?" Looking at her, he found a completely sincere expression that brought his shoulders to relax.

"Buried in a forest of bones," Ryo recited, "in a shroud of unparalleled shadow."

" _Wow_ , that is… dark."

"We thought the cemetery might be the forest of bones, and we figured it was here because Muhimura means—"

"Unparalleled village," she confirmed, nodding absently to herself. "That is… remarkably clever."

"Yeah, well, it's remarkably wrong, because we didn't find anything here."

"Maybe you have the wrong forest," Iris said. When she heard the dry chuckle from the man, she continued, "I mean, maybe you should be looking in an actual forest."

"This is an actual forest."

"Yeah, but you thought the graveyard was the forest. Metaphorically. Maybe it's a literal forest."

"A literal forest of bones?"

"Aokigahara." She looked up at him with a different kind of seriousness now. "The suicide forest. In the shadow of Mount Fuji."

"An unparalleled shadow." Ryo's tone was soft with realization. "That's _genius_."

"Well, I don't know about genius, but what have you got to lose?" She shrugged a bit. "You came all _this_ way. At least Mount Fuji has a little more to offer as a roadtrip destination." She watched him nodding to himself. "Next stop?"

"Yeah. First thing in the morning."

"Sunrise is at five," Iris noted. She snuffed out the embers of the kettle charcoal and plucked her lantern from the countertop. "See you in the morning."


	6. Chapter 6: Aokigahara

"Did you even sleep?" Kento looked over the table in awe. Bowls of soup and rice, plates of eggs and salted salmon, and an assortment of small bowls of vegetables spanned the table in anticipation of the warriors and their companions.

"I'm actually kind of nocturnal," Iris confessed, methodically pouring her guests' cups full of fresh green tea. "The forest is quieter during the day, so I prefer to sleep after the sun is up. I'll be on my way to bed after I've seen you off."

"Well, we can't thank you enough," Sage said, "you've been more than generous."

"Yeah, I think this is the first real meal we've had in weeks," Ryo added.

"Then consider this an open invitation." She smiled at White Blaze, approaching her quietly and earning a gentle scratch behind one ear before he sat down at her side. "Should you find yourselves in need of a real meal again, you are always welcome here."

"Really?" Though his gratitude was clear, Rowen's skepticism was equally tangible.

"Sure. I guess I kind of liked you guys." The woman smirked a bit, "I'm not sure how much that says about you, though. My usual company is a little cold."

There was a small giggle from Yuli, who seemed to be the only person to appreciate the dark humor. Moving her gaze to acknowledge the boy, she noticed the troubled expression on Mia's face.

"You look haunted." She rolled her eyes and shook her head at her own pun, bringing a meager smile to the other woman's lips. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothing," Mia dismissed, "I didn't sleep very well is all."

"A lot of people find it hard to sleep with a graveyard outside," Iris noted.

"Yes, that must be it." Her agreement was betrayed by an uncertain tone. Ryo looked up from his rice to watch her quietly across the table.

"So our next stop is Aokigahara." There was a tinge of uneasiness in Cye's voice, and his chopsticks lingered empty in his hand.

"That didn't sound very confident." Iris was watching him carefully, "are you not familiar with the forest?"

"Are you?"

"Familiar enough." The woman effortlessly removed empty dishes from her company's place settings as they finished with them. "Restless place. Leaves so dense they block out the sun. Black soil that absorbs all sound. Sparse, labyrinthine trails that are easy to wander off of." She appeared briefly lost in thought before concluding, "bones hanging from the trees like vines." Noticing the color had drained from Yuli's face, she offered a small smile. "No ghosts, though."

"It's getting late," Mia sighed, glancing out the open window at the bright blue that had overtaken the morning sky.

"We'd hate to eat and run," Ryo started. Iris waved her hand at him.

"Not at all. You have a long way ahead." She stood from her seat to gather the plates that remained. Sage was the first on his feet this time, collecting the discarded dishes. Their host joined him, smiling as she toted her own armful beside him. "You are by far the most well-mannered visitors I've ever had. You are definitely welcome to come help me with the dishes any time," she teased, glancing back over her shoulder to give Cye a wink. He managed a shy smile in return, causing Kento to gently jab him in the ribs with his elbow.

"I don't think we should go into the forest," Mia's voice had dropped to a whisper as she leaned over to Ryo, nodding her head a bit toward Yuli.

"I agree. You two should wait for us outside." Ryo's tone turned grim. "Even without whatever might be waiting for us, it's no place for a kid."

"Well, I'm ready," Kento declared, getting to his feet. "Forest of bones, bring it on!"

"Easy," Cye warned, following his friend.

"Yeah, Kento, try some subtlety every once in a while," Rowen shook his head.

"You know there's nothin' about me that's subtle." Kento smirked, an expression that faded once Sage rejoined them alone. "Where's Iris?"

"You can go on outside, I'll be out in a minute," the woman called from another room. Kento's face flushed.

"Can she hear everything?"

"Almost," she confirmed, bringing the Ronin to put up his hands in exasperation.

"Come on," Ryo nodded toward the door, helping Mia to her feet and leading the way through the house.

Stepping out on to the porch, the men stopped to look around. The cemetery was much more beautiful in the morning's brilliant golden sun, alive now with the gentle sound of small, chirping birds and a stark contrast to its deafening evening silence. Indeed, it was strangely full of life, with bright flashes of butterflies flitting around the tombstones and bursts of colorful flowers flecking the winding paths. For a moment, it was easy to forget the nature of the place was for the dead.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Iris had once again managed to avoid their detection, startling the crew with her emergence.

"It really is," Cye agreed.

"Come on, I'll walk you to the end of the woods." As she started on the main path winding past the great lilac tree, they noticed an unlit lantern clutched in her hand. They followed closely behind, reassured by the familiar sound of wildlife rustling and rummaging about in the foliage. The forest was an entirely different world now, bustling with life and perfectly normal in its isolation, and somehow their unusual host seemed to fit in seamlessly with its remoteness.

"The river is just beyond those trees," Iris said as she came to a stop and nodded ahead. She turned to Ryo, lifting her hand to offer the lantern to him. "Here."

"Are you sure?" Ryo furrowed his brows, reaching out to take it and noticing a long, twisting coil of twine looped in her hand along with its handle.

"You'll need it," she declared. "Keep your wits about you. Mark the trees and stay together."

"We will. Thanks."

"Good luck." She offered a small smile to his companions. "I hope you find what you're looking for."

She watched through the trees to be sure they made it safely to the river; turning back, they saw her form disappear amid the foliage. They were quiet and contemplative as they waded their way back across the water and navigated through the trees along the mountainside.

"I think we can count that as one of our stranger encounters," Cye broke the silence, following closely behind Kento who had taken charge of leading the way. White Blaze shook his fur free of the river water.

"I thought she was nice," Yuli defended.

"She was very nice," Mia agreed, "but she was also very strange."

"Well, you all can be weirded out if you want, I just might take her up on that dinner invitation," Kento mused. Cye shook his head lightly.

"So Aokigahara," Rowen started, "anyone been there?"

"Can't say that I have," Sage replied uneasily. "I don't make a habit of going to such dark places."

"Come on, Sage, you're not superstitious, are you?"

"Of course not." The blond's voice grew indignant. "But it's a dangerous place. People go in there and never come back out."

"Yeah, by choice," Kento quipped.

"Not always," Ryo sighed. "Like Iris said, it's easy to get lost. I've heard of people wandering off the trail where no one could hear their calls for help."

"Yeah, yeah. Anyone who doesn't want to go in the spooky forest can stay behind and wait for the rest of us."

"The van!" Mia exclaimed, emerging from the wooden path to find the vehicle still waiting at the bottom of the dead-end road, "it's still here!"

"Of course it is, who did you think would mess with it?" Kento headed directly for the driver's seat.

* * *

"They are going to Aokigahara Forest."

Bright blue flames blossomed atop slender ivory candlesticks, illuminating a scarred, wicked face.

"The suicide forest?" The man could feel his company's intense blue-green eyes as they settled on him, though he responded only with an arrogant smirk. A ghastly, translucent mask materialized against the wrought iron ornamentation of the throne room in acknowledgment.

"Very good, Cale." Talpa's voice warbled hauntingly in the dimness. "Follow them."

"Master Talpa," a third voice broke through the darkness, its owner stepping forward to glare at the Warlord with a single eye peering from underneath white curls. "Cale had his opportunity to destroy the Ronins last night and he failed. Allow me to take on this task."

"Fool! I do not want them destroyed just yet," Talpa roared. He paused for a long moment, lingering silence as he contemplated his next words. "There is another armor."

"Another?" Anubis's brows furrowed. "Is it a Ronin armor?"

"No." The emperor's voice was a quiet growl. "It is unlike any of the others. The most powerful of them all. Hollow and wicked. No mortal has ever been capable of wielding it without falling to its evil. Its dark influence corrupts all who attempt to tame it. I have searched for this armor for centuries to no avail, and now the Ancient One has revealed its location to the Ronin Warriors. They must now be on the correct path, they will lead us to it."

"What about the girl?" The deep voice was unsettlingly cold, and heavily lidded eyes smirked over the candle flames.

"She is of no consequence," Talpa growled.

"She could prove a useful hostage," Cale remarked. "The warriors seemed quite enamored with her."

"Perhaps," Talpa mused, "but we will deal with her later. I want that armor. Find it before the Ronin Warriors, and claim it by any means necessary."

"Master Talpa, why send Cale?" Anubis crossed his clutched fist over his chest. "After our last battle, I know I can defeat the Ronins and reclaim this armor you seek."

"You will have your chance, Anubis. Cale will thrive in the darkness of the Aokigahara forest. He is most fit for this task." The emperor's soulless, empty eyes glowed red, "now go. Bring me that armor!"

"Yes, master." Cale folded his arm across his waist and bowed before the candle nearby extinguished and he faded into the shadows.

* * *

The men looked up at the towering, lush trees blanketing the mountain landscape. The snowy cap of Mount Fuji loomed over the forest, magnificent in its magnitude and picturesque against the late morning sky.

"Mia, Yuli, you two stay here," Ryo ordered. "White Blaze, watch for trouble."

"Be safe," Mia said, setting her hands on Yuli's shoulders. "We'll be waiting for you." Kento offered a thumbs-up and a wink as Ryo handed Rowen the length of twine. Assured their companions were staying safely behind, the five started on the open trail through the trees quietly.

"The forest isn't very big," Cye said, trailing behind Sage, "but how do we know where to look? We can't cover all of it."

"I could sense when you guys were close," Ryo replied. "Maybe this armor will be the same."

The forest was exactly as Iris had described it. Moss crawled across black soil and rock, the ground rolling and uneven like waves. Twisted tree trunks jutted out of the brush, with tall, straight cedars speckled throughout the landscape. The available sunlight quickly diminished, first overshadowed by lush emerald green before finally succumbing to a dim, grey shade. As they continued their path, what had been a clear walking trail grew sparse, and the dense foliage indistinguishable. Ryo cautiously reached down to turn the key of the old lantern, which illuminated with a soft _fwoosh_ ; doing so, he caught glimpse of what appeared to be sneakers discarded in the grass and an involuntary shiver crept down his spine.

Suddenly, Sage stretched his arm to his side and stopped, halting his companions in their path. He looked around with steely violet eyes as if waiting for something.

"Someone's watching us," he said softly, "I can feel it."

"Come on, man," Kento groaned, "don't start with the ghost stories now—"

"Ryo?" Rowen drew their attention to the man, who had quietly wandered past Sage with the lantern extended in front of him. His feet seemed unsteady, nervous, and it seemed he either had not heard his companion or was simply ignoring him. His breath hung in his chest as he peered into the darkness ahead.

It was vague at first. An insignificant change in the color of the shadows, barely perceivable in its difference. But as they watched the undergrowth where Ryo's eyes focused, they caught glimpse of something lurking in the gloom.

Ryo felt his blood run cold as he realized something was staring back.

There was only a slight movement in the leaves, but it was enough. Quick hands grasped smooth jeweled spheres, but the echo of their calls absorbed into the dense greenery, the forest undisturbed by its guests.

Ryo was the first to draw his weapons, his feet spread in a wide stance and swords raised.

"Alright, who's there?" he barked into the darkness. "Anubis? You ready for round two?"

Silence responded. A tense moment passed, but as his companions waited cautiously, the hotheaded Ronin growled, his patience quickly worn. "Come out and face us!"

Another small movement rustled the shrubbery, this time accented by unmistakable metal clanking. The men each raised their weapons as the shadows shifted and something emerged from them, and an eerie hush settled on the brush.

A ghastly armor stared them down now, its haunting image unlike any they had seen before: dark grey metal, overlapped with jagged ivory plates that resembled bones. A heavy, hooded black cloak hung from its shoulders, pooled on the mossy forest floor. Skeletal fingers clasped the twisted, curving snath of a serrated scythe. And a grinning metal skull glared back at the warriors through the darkness.


	7. Chapter 7: Oblivion

"That armor," Ryo murmured. It was a frightening image: grim and haunting like Death itself. He took a cautious step back as it stepped closer, its footsteps strangely silent despite the heavy metal plates covering them.

"Who are you?" Kento barked. The armor seemed unmoved, empty black eye sockets staring back.

"A friend." A true answer to the question had been unexpected, and the warriors jumped at its abruptness. The voice was startling, low and distorted and inhuman, but the tone was still somehow warm, making the statement only stranger. "At least I was when we last met, Kento."

"Huh?" The man clenched his fists around his weapon. "How do you know my name?"

"Show yourself!" Cye demanded, raising his trident.

A tense moment passed. The armor shifted, as if considering his command, and Rowen nocked an arrow in anticipation. It raised the scythe, and all five warriors responded in kind, their weapons prepared to strike. An attack never came; the scythe was instead locked to the armor's back beneath its cloak. Both hands raised up, first in a gesture as if surrendering, then reaching up to clasp the cloak hood and dropping it to its shoulders. Its thumbs coiled under the face mask and drew the helmet up to remove it.

There was a rumbling of confusion and commotion among the men as familiar gold-flecked eyes gazed back at them.

"Iris?" Sage breathed. Her face was stern, her expression unreadable, but there was softness in her eyes as her sight moved across them.

"I knew there was something about you," she said quietly. "The armors."

"You knew?" Ryo's wary eyes fixed on the woman, unsure now if she was friend or foe.

"I could sense them," she admitted, "but I wasn't sure what to think."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"You must understand, you are not the only ones who seek this armor. I had to be sure. There are other bearers who have fallen back into the Dynasty's influence."

"The Dark Warlords," Kento confirmed.

"So you know them, then."

"We've had our dealings with them," Sage replied.

"So we were right," Rowen said. His aim had not faltered, an arrow still fixed on the woman. "The armor was in Muhimura. Why bring us here?"

"I guess you were right in some way, yes. The legend led you to me." Iris looked at the arrow before meeting the Ronin's gaze. "But the heart of the armor is here. It's where I felt safest confronting you, even though I usually stay far from this place."

"What? Why?" Cye's brows furrowed.

"Because it makes her easier to find." A wicked voice came through the trees, its echo absorbed by the forest. The Ronins turned their attention to the darkness seeping through the trees, turning only enough to look around in search of the voice. Ryo turned, but kept his eyes focused on Iris. _Did we fall for a trap_?

"You are either incredibly bold or incredibly stupid facing me here, Warlord." She spoke with unwavering firmness but made no move to draw her weapon. In fact, she seemed wholly unconcerned with the man's presence. "This is my world, not your world."

"Those are big words for such a little girl."

"And those are brave words for a man hiding in the dark." Her eyes focused in the trees just beyond where Kento stood. "Not very well, either." There was a rustling in the leaves, gentle at first, but within seconds a gusting wind billowed up, seemingly from within the trees themselves. The Ronins struggled to stay on their feet, their efforts quickly thwarted as the wind took them down and dragged them across the soil and closer to Iris. She appeared unaffected, her cloak and braid picking up in the breeze, but feet planted firmly in the moss.

Sage managed to push up to his knees against the gusts, shielding his face from grains of sand swirling around him. He peered over his arm to find that the five of them had been pushed behind Iris, and huddled on the ground across the clearing, a dark, armored form was being dragged from the trees. Just as suddenly as the wind had risen, it died, and the forest grew eerily quiet again. The warriors quickly got to their feet.

Cale pushed up to his hands and knees to get his bearings, finally forcing himself back to his feet. A furious snarl crawled across his lips.

"That is quite a parlor trick," he growled. "I have a few of those myself."

Faint growling crept through the foliage. Yellow, glowing eyes flecked the darkness in the leaves, the low, rumbling snarling closing in around them. The Ronins turned and backed up against the woman, watching as black wolves slinked out from the trees. Cale cackled as the beasts drew nearer, baring sharp, glistening teeth.

Suddenly, the growling stopped. There was a single whine, then a small chorus of pained whimpering. Kento groaned and pressed his fist to his chest.

"What's happening?" he breathed, his knees buckling. The sound of armor clattering sung in harmony with the agonized crying of the black-furred beasts, and soon he realized all his friends were doubling over. Rowen dropped his bow and clasped his arms around his ribcage as he sank to his knees, panting.

Cale dropped to one knee, grasping at his chest. His breaths were sharp and shallow, his lungs burning. He felt as though something was crushing him, pressure pushing in on his ribs from all sides. As he struggled for breath, he could feel his heart pounding, but more alarmingly, how slow each beat came. The world lurched and spun, and black spots littered his vision. He looked up to find the wolves collapsing, their whimpers silencing and bodies unmoving.

"I do not understand," he gasped, "how is this possible?"

"You are darkness," Iris declared, her tone grim, "but I am death."

Ryo gasped desperately for air as the squeezing sensation on his chest dissipated. He looked up to Iris, still standing and still untouched by whatever forces had affected them. His mind whirled. Her attacks seemed to target them just as they did the Warlord and his creatures, the damage undiscriminating. _Whose side is she on_? He looked down to find she had widened her stance and appeared deliberately positioned to protect them, but his thoughts swirled with uncertainty and suspicion.

"I have had enough of this foolishness!" Cale barked. He pointed the three sharpened claws on his left hand at her, "I have come to reclaim that armor for Master Talpa!" He lunged for her.

The Warlord was lightning fast, but Iris was faster; she unsheathed her scythe and caught him between the claws with its blade, using her leverage to draw him closer and meet his gaze with fierce eyes.

"Talpa will _never_ reclaim this armor," she declared. With a single, jerking motion, she shattered the Warlord's mighty claws, then bunted him away with a flat shove to his chest with the scythe snath. Cale stumbled, clutching his hand to his chest as he coughed a spatter of blood. She took a step back, sweeping the scythe down by her side and fixing her eyes on the man. "Boys, I could use your help right now!"

"Right!" Sage took the initiative and stepped in front of Iris, drawing his sword and raising it above his head. The blade illuminated blue, "Thunderbolt Cut!"

Light and warmth flooded the forest, chasing away the eerie coldness that permeated the trees. Bolts of blinding blue light shot through the shadows, and an agonized scream escaped the Warlord as he was overcome by the attack. An intense blast of heat and light flashed and was gone, and when it faded they found themselves alone again in the clearing.

Ryo took a cautious step toward Iris, blue eyes watching her intensely.

"What was that?" he managed. She turned her head to see he was rubbing gingerly at his chest.

"The armor's powers are devastating, and they don't discriminate," she replied. "All life is in danger in its presence." Her face softened and her shoulders sank. "I'm sorry. But you see now why I couldn't trust your intentions. I can't take chances."

"Yeah," Rowen turned to her, "the Ancient warned us it had the power to destroy the mortal world. But you sure aren't what we expected to find wearing it."

"The Ancient?" Iris's brows furrowed, and she shook her head a bit.

"He's the one who told us how to find you," Cye replied, "or your armor, anyway."

"I don't understand—who—?"

"Come on, we can talk about this later." Sage looked around the trees carefully, "let's get out of here before Talpa decides to send someone else our way."

Iris's armor began glowing, and seconds later faded away, leaving her in underarmor resembling their own in dark shades of grey. The men followed suit, sheathing their weapons before disarming.

The woman noted the path had been marked with twine and smiled a bit. She glanced back to Ryo as if waiting for him to pass, a signal he acknowledged and started off on the trail out of the forest.

"Man, have we got some questions for you," Kento remarked, following on Ryo's heels. Iris laughed as she followed.

"Yeah, I'm sure you do," she replied.

The warriors emerged from the forest, shielding their eyes as the afternoon sun bore down on them. Mia straightened up from her place leaned against the bumper of the van and then hurried toward them. As she approached, she saw the sixth member of their company and stopped in her tracks, her green eyes wide in disbelief. Yuli hopped off the hood of the van and scurried up behind her with White Blaze at his side.

"Iris?" Mia looked the woman up and down, noting the dark subarmor.

"Whoa!" Yuli's eyes widened. "You're a Ronin Warrior?"

"Not quite, my friend," she replied, offering the boy a small, warm smile. White Blaze approached and circled her legs, gently bunting her hand. "Oh, I see. You knew, didn't you?" A rolling chuff responded, and the tiger rubbed his face against her hip.

"Told you your tiger had a crush on the ghost lady," Kento teased, garnering an eyeroll from Wildfire.

"So what do we call you?" Rowen raised his chin. "I'm Rowen of the Strata."

"I'm Sage of the Halo." The blond crossed his arms.

"Cye of the Torrent," came the man's soft voice.

"Kento of Hardrock." He flashed a grin at her, pressing his closed fist into his free palm.

"And I'm Ryo," he gazed at her with fiery concentration, "of the Wildfire."

Her eyes moved across each of their faces in turn before meeting Ryo's. There was an unwavering intensity in their depths, her gaze as fierce as his as she considered their words in silence. Finally, she broke the stillness.

"I'm Iris of the Oblivion."


	8. Chapter 8: Dark Interlude

He could hear the low chuckling around him, but he refused to look up. His chest ached, each breath tearing through his lungs like fire, each beat of his heart erratic and painful. He remained knelt on one knee, his head bowed, his hand clutched to his breast not out of respect but attempting to soothe his agony.

"So the monk found someone to bear the Oblivion armor." Talpa's voice was eerily calm.

"I should have been the one to face the Ronins and this armor," Dais remarked, "Cale was not fit for the task." The assertion was met with a handful of caustic laughs from the other Warlords.

"Silence!" The emperor's patience had quickly waned. "None of you are capable of facing the Oblivion armor alone, now that it has a master. Its powers are immense. Cale, you have seen for yourself just how destructive it is. A single touch from its scythe is capable of bringing death upon its target."

The Warlord closed his eyes, pressing his fist into his chest. Death. _Yes, that is most certainly what it felt like_. The image of the wolves crumpling flashed back through his mind. She had slain all his beasts without a single movement, and had nearly taken his very breath in kind.

"Master Talpa, why does a _woman_ bear such powerful armor?" Cale spat.

"You sound insulted." Dais smirked.

"In seeking a bearer for the Oblivion the monk would have wanted someone unlikely to abuse its power," the emperor replied, "and it appears he chose wisely."

"She has a great deal of command over it," Sekhmet added. "Though it seems she is unable to control the extent of its effects."

"Yes," Talpa growled, "she is limited by the sheer magnitude of its power. That is both the armor's greatest strength and its greatest weakness, contingent on whomever wields it and for what purpose. It seeks and inflicts death on all. It does not discern between righteousness and evil. She will try to avoid using it, as it means a most certain end to those around her."

"So we should try to corner her, then," Anubis deduced.

"If she refuses to transform, she will be easily defeated, and the armor can be reclaimed," Sekhmet agreed.

"This task will require all of your strengths, Warlords," Talpa warned. "Should she call on the armor, the four of you almost certainly will be of no match for her. But even disarmed, she possesses a degree of the Oblivion's power. You must strike her down swiftly. Do not toil with the Ronins. They are weak and do not compare to your combined power. Focus on the woman, take her down. The Oblivion armor will return to me willingly once she has been terminated."

"Master, it appears the Ronins are returning to Toyama. And the woman is with them." A wicked smirk perked up on Dais's lips. "This may be easier than we expected."

Talpa's eyes illuminated red. There was a soft, malevolent cackle as he acknowledged the Warlord's words.

"Yes, they are bringing her to the very heart of the Dynasty's influence," he hissed. "The armor will be drawn to my presence, and her efforts to fight it will only weaken her. You may well capture the Oblivion armor yourselves, my Warlords. Destroy the girl, and bring it to me!"

"Yes, Master." The three standing men bowed their heads obediently. Cale still struggled to ease his pain, managing a shallow bow from his kneeling position before fading into the shadows. The blue flames dancing atop the ivory candlesticks shivered before extinguishing, plunging the throne room into empty darkness.

 _Your efforts have proven futile, monk. You have only led another lamb to slaughter. When this is over, who of us will have more innocent blood on their hands? Let there be no doubt, I will have that armor!_


	9. Chapter 9: Revelation

"So you're telling me the gravedigger thing isn't related." Kento's voice was laced with skepticism.

" _Caretaker_ ," Iris corrected, "and yes, it's entirely coincidental."

Trees rolled by outside the van, lush green painted against vivid azure; their leaves rustled gently in the breeze, rolling and flowing like waves. The sun was bright and golden and unobscured as the sky was devoid of clouds. It had been an easy drive, placid and peaceful, with smooth pavement winding through the countryside.

"You said you stay far away from Aokigahara," Cye said. "Why is that?"

"Cale was right about that to some degree. The armor's place in Aokigahara was predictable," she replied, "at least it was to Talpa. It's why he hasn't found it until now, it's been kept far from where he expected it to be." Her eyes drifted to look out the cab window, her voice taking on a tone that was softer, darker. "But much worse than that, the armor's influence is stronger in the forest. The emptiness of its essence, and the hopelessness of Aokigahara are enough to drive a person to insanity."

"Whoa, heavy," Kento remarked.

"In some ways, the isolation of Muhimura protects me." She looked back to them, her tone lifting and a soft smile coming to her face. "I'm not exposed to the everyday bleakness the Oblivion feeds off of."

"That must be really lonely, though," Sage observed.

"It can be," she agreed, "but we've all made sacrifices for this world, haven't we?"

The warriors fell quiet, and uneasy glances exchanged across the cab. Mia sensed the sudden, heavy melancholy as it fell on the men and her eyes moved to Yuli.

"That's what heroes do, isn't it?" the boy chirped.

"Not what I would call myself," Iris replied, "but the rest of you…" She trailed off as her attention was pulled to the window again. The bright blue sky of the country was changing, with grey clouds flecking across the firmament. The sun quickly vanished, and an eerie green glow permeated the clouds as they turned black.

The woman leaned closer to the pane to expand her view. Buildings loomed on the horizon now, and as they approached her eyes widened. Walls were crumbling. Shattered shards were all that remained of windows and doors, poking out of bent sills. Stores and offices were still and dark, and as they entered one of the city's intersections she realized the stoplights were black. Asphalt rumbled underneath and the van jostled as they approached the city center, rolling over cracking pavement. Finally, Mia brought the bus to a stop, unable to continue beyond a collapsed bridge.

Iris was the first out of the vehicle, barely waiting for it to stop before drawing the door open and hopping to the pavement. The silence of the city was deafening and unwelcoming, its ruins haunting against the stormy horizon. Cars in various states of disrepair littered the battered roads, bags and briefcases dotted the sidewalks. No humans, no wildlife, not even bodies remained. It was not simply dead. It was utterly abandoned, as if every inhabitant had suddenly vanished.

"What is this place?" Iris asked uneasily.

"Toyama," Ryo replied, "or at least what's left of it."

"The Dynasty has already taken hold here," she murmured, her eyes scanning the empty streets and buildings. Her face had drained of its color. "How long has it been like this?"

"A few weeks?" Rowen answered uncertainly.

"And the people?"

"Captured." Sage's voice was somber. "Taken by Talpa."

"They must be so afraid," she breathed, "the Nether Realm is a terrible place."

"Now that isn't fair." The voice was deep and punctuated by an eerie echo that reverberated off the hollow buildings. Kento clenched his fists.

"Dais," he growled.

"You've never even been there," another voice hissed. "Allow us to remedy that."

Iris's eyes darted around in search of their opponents. She threw her arm up to block as a chain erupted from the darkness, slinging around the woman's forearm. She was forcibly wrenched across the crumbling street and into a wall, crumpling to one knee.

"Iris!" Ryo shouted. In a brilliant display of light, the five suited up. Rowen was quickest on the draw, notching an arrow and taking aim at the chain ensnaring her.

"Arrow Shock Wave!" An intense blue light built up at the arrow's tip before he dropped the string, the projectile soaring silently before meeting the chain in a blast of light. The links shattered, and the coils loosened, falling away from her limb, the shoulder of which she gingerly cusped to soothe.

There was a scattering of cackling as the men emerged from the shadows. Iris pushed against the wall to push herself back to her feet. Looking across the road, her eyes settled on Cale.

"Trying your luck again?" Her voice was calm and steady, and Cale instantly sneered.

"It is you who will need luck, girl," he barked.

"Yes, allowing the Ronins to bring you here sealed your doom," Sekhmet declared, drawing his swords. "We will show you the true meaning of death! Snake Fang Strike!"

Golden orange light fired across the emptiness. It was an attack the woman just barely avoided, bolting aside as it struck. A crack traveled up the building's concrete, dust and gravel pouring from the fracture as the wall crumbled in two.

As she moved across an open alleyway, the ferocious, red-masked form of Anubis stepped out of the darkness. His eyes narrowed, and silently he slung the chain of his sickle toward her. Over her shoulder, she caught glimpse of the attack and twisted round to dodge it.

The Warlord halted in his tracks. His gaze settled on the woman's face, still fierce and undaunted amid violent confrontation. Gold-flecked eyes seemed to glow even in the dimness of the overshadowed city. She was small and beautiful against the brutality, and for a moment, time stopped; he was frozen, his sight fixed on her unarmored form.

Cye sprang into action against the Warlord of Venom, bringing his trident down in an assault he narrowly missed. Sekhmet caught the spear between his swords, flinging the man in an overhead arc and driving him into the asphalt.

Cale swept across the pavement, his sword raised as he swiftly approached Iris and slashed at her. Each swing of the blade came closer, the woman springing and sprinting to escape it. Her path became deliberate, each dodge moving her closer to the Ronins.

"They're not here to fight us, they're after _her_ ," Sage breathed.

"Iris, you have to arm yourself!" Ryo ordered.

"I _can't_ ," she called, her voice finally exposing her fear as it quivered.

"What?" Kento furrowed his brows, "why not?"

"It is just as Master Talpa predicted," Dais declared, "the armor is influenced by the Nether Realm's energy. If she calls on it, it will betray her! It wants to return to its master."

"Yes, that armor belongs to Emperor Talpa!" Sekhmet hissed.

"The Oblivion armor belongs to no one!" Iris barked, skidding to a stop beside Sage, whose side she backed up against to keep the Warlords in her sight.

"Pathetic." Dais's voice was vicious, unamused, "you don't even believe you are the master of your own armor?"

"I am its keeper, not its master," she affirmed.

"You are undeserving of such power!" The Warlord of Illusion drew his scythes from his back, taking aim at the woman.

The blades shot forth, finally landing a firm hit on Iris. The strike landed in her stomach, sending her reeling and driving her back away from the protection of the Ronins. She was thrust into the side of an abandoned car, the force of her body caving in the metal.

" _Iris_!"

It was a call she could only vaguely decipher. A hollow, high-pitching ringing echoed in her ears, drowning out the voices around her. Her head was spinning; she coughed as the impact robbed her of breath. She struggled to stay on her feet, but her knees buckled and she dropped to the ground.

Cale stormed toward her. Sage drew his sword and intercepted him, metal clashing with metal, holding their weapons in tension. Orange light flashed and struck the blond, knocking him off his feet and out of the Warlord's way.

"Kento, Rowen, protect her!" Ryo ordered, turning his attention to Sekhmet. He bolted across the street and met the Warlord's swords with his own. His men sprinted for Iris.

"Web of Deception!" Dais's scythes shot out again. Kento was struck with a blade, driving him back across the road away from his helpless comrade. Though Rowen had managed to dodge the scythe, silky strands erupted from it as it embedded in a nearby alley wall, reaching like tendrils to coil around the man and bring him to the ground. He struggled against the threads, the futility of his efforts acknowledged by the Warlord's malicious laughter.

Undeterred and unobstructed, Cale continued his furious path toward Iris. He planted his feet firmly in front of the woman's wilted form, a soft, slow cackle crackling past his lips.

"You will pay dearly for our last encounter," he growled. Disoriented, she looked up helplessly to the man as he raised his sword over his head, then finally drove it down.

" _No_!" Sage cried. The sound of metal meeting metal echoed against the hollow buildings, lost in a commotion of horrified gasps and shouts. And just as quickly, silence fell.

Iris had managed to throw her arm up to block the strike, her eyes clenched shut as she anticipated the blade. It never came. Slowly, she looked up over her forearm to find the sword looming over her, the man's furious eyes burning as they settled on his weapon. It was caught against the blade of a sickle.

Anubis stood just in front of the woman, his arm extended down and out from his side to block Cale's sword.

" _What is this_ ," Cale snarled, his rage turning to Anubis.

"I cannot allow you to harm her, Cale," the man declared, his voice calm, firm. His gaze met Cale's, unreadable but resolute.

Iris's blood ran cold. Her eyes moved to the Warlord, her breath caught in her chest. The ringing in her ears had stopped, replaced now with the sound of her heart pounding.

"What the—?" Kento was on one knee, leaning against his staff to recover.

"I told you, he's a man!" Rowen squiggled to peer over at them, struggling still to sit up. "There's a human heart in there somewhere!"

"Is that what this is? A bite of conscience?" Sekhmet pressed, his venomous gaze resting on his leader. His question was met with silence.

"This is what happened with Strata and Wildfire," Dais's voice was low. "She is unarmed, easily defeated, but he has become too soft to strike!" Anubis had not shifted his sight from Cale, who jerked his sword back to release it from his hold.

"Master Talpa will have your head for this!" Cale roared.

The movement was swift. In a single sweep, Iris grabbed the sickle from Anubis's hand and swung the shaft into the back of his legs. There was a startled cry and the Warlord went down, dropping hard to his knees as the woman got to her feet. She reached down in front of him and pulled the sickle blade back across his neck.

"What are you—?" Sage breathed.

"Take your helmet off," she demanded, her ferocity restored. Anubis knelt in silence, unmoving and unyielding to her command. She drew the sickle closer to his throat until the blade pressed under the chin plate of his helmet. "I said _take it off_!"

Iris watched closely as his hands reached up, taking the helmet by its sides and lifting it from his head. Her heart skipped a beat as her gaze settled on the long, straight mane of auburn hair that graced his shoulders. Slowly, she withdrew the sickle from his throat and stepped back, her footsteps shaking.

"What's happening?" Cye had recovered and was on his feet. He lifted his trident to a defensive position, his brows furrowed.

Anubis stood carefully, turning to rest his blue-green eyes on the woman. She stared back with wide eyes, her expression a muddled mess of confusion, horror, and fury. Sharp, shallow breaths came through her nose, her jaw tightly clenched.

"Svnoyi." The man's voice was low and strangely soft, his gaze unwavering.

" _Don't_ call me that," Iris snarled, clutching the sickle and chain defensively, "don't _ever_ call me that again."

Ryo's fists closed tight around the hilts of his swords. There was an uneasy churning in his stomach now, an undeniable feeling of dread, though he could not explain why. The silence was disconcerting, and all were trapped in the balance as the two stared each other down, unrelenting. She kept the sickle raised, though Anubis seemed either unconcerned or confident an attack was not coming.

"You know each other?" Wildfire queried. The Warlord was completely calm, watching Iris carefully as if waiting for her to respond to her comrade's question. Her gold-flecked gaze remained locked on him, making no move to respond.

Finally, he broke the stillness. "Yes. She was my bride."


	10. Chapter 10: Memories

"Can you help him?"

The voice was startling. It warbled through the dark with an unmistakable panic, its words punctuating bursts of bright white.

"I do not know." The reply was strange, though he could not quite place why. "He is very bad." It was a woman speaking, and as she continued, he recognized the odd pattern of her speech. A foreigner, speaking a language not her own.

"Please, he must be able to return home. His village will retaliate."

He struggled to open his eyes, managing a mere sliver marred with a nauseating blur.

"I will try. But I cannot make promises."

His eyes shivered open, his vision flooding with tears from the blinding sunlight. There was a sudden, unbearable pain that pulsed through him and he grimaced, hardly recognizing the agonized cry that escaped as his own. A soft warmth met his cheek, and the gentlest touch brushed across his lashes to clear the tears, bringing him to struggle his eyes open once more.

This time, a figure was clear in the haze. Dark hair glistened in the sunlight, framing a young face he focused to decipher. She had traits unlike he had ever seen: sun-kissed golden skin, a sharp jaw, a straight, prominent nose. Her deep brown eyes seemed to illuminate with golden halos in the light.

"Can you speak?" Though her tempo was strange, her voice was tender and comforting. His lips parted, but only strained breath escaped. "Do you know his name?" The question was redirected elsewhere.

"His men called him Koma," a voice replied.

His vision was faltering again, warping and blurring, his mind screaming as the pain of his wounds surged. The bright light faded, first a hazy grey before finally going black. A sudden cold swept over him, raising his hair on end, and the pain coursing through him abruptly vanished. There was a vague sensation, pressure and warmth against his chilled chest, and though it was faint, he heard that voice again; composed, but tinged with urgency.

"We are losing him."

* * *

Crackling. It was a sound of which he was first aware, gentle and soothing. Brilliant orange danced in his vision against the darkness of his eyelids. Finally, he could feel warmth. It radiated at his side, comforting against the chill that still lingered in his bones.

His lashes fluttered, lids trembling as he opened his eyes. The light in his vision now was far gentler than that of before, a glowing kaleidoscope of orange and yellow. A distorted, cloudy haze obscuring his sight quickly dissipated, and as the world came into view, he found small flames curling nearby his side.

He rolled his head to its side to peer through the dimness. At first, all else was dark, overwhelmed by the flames' light, but a moment passed, and a figure became discernible in the orange glow.

The woman he had seen before stood only feet away, her profile illuminated by the moonlight coming through the open doorway. Thick dark hair poured down her back, long and loose to her hips. Her face was elegant and strangely beautiful in its uniqueness, highly structured and enhanced by the golden tone of her skin.

A dull ache bloomed in his chest, spreading like wildflowers and drawing a pained moan to his lips. The sound caught the woman's attention, and as she looked over, her face softened.

"You are awake." She moved quickly around to his side opposite the fire, slowly kneeling to examine him. It was the first time she had truly seen his eyes, deep blue-green like a stormy sea. Her gaze lingered on them for a moment before passing over his chest, which he had uncovered in a fitful sleep.

"Who are you?" He finally found his voice, soft and low as any projection brought his chest to ache.

"I am Svnoyi," she replied, "who are you?"

"I am Toshitada."

"That is not the name I was given." Readjusting the blanket, her gentle hands smoothed the fabric against him.

"Koma is my family name," he remarked, a vague memory of her earlier exchange now flickering his mind. "I have not heard such a name as yours before. You are not from these lands."

"No, I am not. I come from the West, across the sea."

"Why am I here?"

"You were thrown from your horse, as I was told. It seems someone found you and could not bring themselves to leave you to die. Perhaps a local farmer. There is a village nearby where I am well-known as a healer, they bring many injured and ill to me."

"If you are a healer, then why do I still hurt?" His voice came as a tired, pained sigh. A small smile found its way to Svnoyi's lips.

"I am a medicine woman, not a magician. Your wound is very bad. I did not know I could help you at all." She rested her hand against his ribs through the blanket, her tone darkening, "even still, I am not sure."

"You think I am going to die." She found those blue-green eyes focused on her, intense but unafraid. There was no questioning or fear in his voice, as if it was a fate he had already accepted.

"I will do everything to see to it you do not."

* * *

"That is very good!" The voice was encouraging and optimistic, but he could not stop the feeling of failure that crept up his spine.

It had been months. Toshitada knew this. He had watched the leaves change, first to brilliant shades of red and orange before withering into skeletal silver and grey. His wounds had been slow to heal and riddled with obstacles. Pain lingered from his fall, and the deep puncture in his chest had only barely closed, still tender and sensitive to every movement. His steps were slow, laborious, and marked with discomfort.

Still, Svnoyi was kind. Her patience seemed limitless. She walked at his side, arm-in-arm, slow and deliberate. Errands were run with him in tow; trips to the bay for fish, to the forest for herbs, to the local market for rice. Others watched him with pitying glances, something of which he was keenly aware. But she seemed unfazed, and her reassurance never ceased.

"I know you would be able to do this much faster without me," Toshitada remarked. Those honey-toned eyes looked up at him now, their golden halos glowing in the evening sun.

"That is not the point," Svnoyi insisted. "Healing means more than simply closing your wounds. It is a return to normal life. When the journey is not difficult, I will know we have succeeded."

"I fear I will never return to battle." It was a confession that brought a lengthy silence.

"That is what you consider normal?" There was a long pause before she spoke again. "Is it worth it? Fighting, risking your life?" He seemed to genuinely consider the question before answering.

"Yes."

"For what, exactly? What are you trying to achieve?" There was a hint of distress and bewilderment in her voice now, and he noticed her arm tightened ever slightly around his.

"Unity," he replied.

"Under who? You?"

Toshitada looked down to meet her gaze contemplatively. She was so markedly different from him, gentle and compassionate and endlessly humble. Svnoyi wanted for nothing, content with the simplicity of a life spent caring for others. And yet somehow, that selflessness made her powerful; the respect with which the local villagers treated her had not been lost on him. A small smile found its way to his lips.

"I am sorry," she relented, breaking their gaze and looking ahead quietly, "I should not ask you so many questions. It is none of my business."

"I understand," he said, his voice softening. He reached his free arm across his body to take her hand into his. "We have very different aspirations. I owe my life to yours."

* * *

Dusk had an ethereal quality in winter. The horizon was barely illuminated in pink and orange, with a distinct streak of brilliant snowy white breaking the sky before fading into inky blue. The colors would vanish rapidly, slipping below the skyline to blanket the heavens with stars.

 _Stars_. It was a fleeting thought, but as it passed, it pulled Toshitada into wakefulness. Tonight was what Svnoyi called a _shadow sky_ , a night when the moon was plunged into darkness and the stars were at their brightest, undisturbed by its light. It was her favorite evening of the celestial cycle, one she would inevitably spend outside under the firmament. He carefully got to his feet, noting the silence in the home that indicated she had already journeyed outside, and made his way out the door.

The woman had not gone far, as he expected: she was laid out flat on her back in the grass beside her home, her dark locks twisting through the blades and hands folded on her stomach.

"Why do you look at the stars?" Toshitada asked as he approached.

"Why do you not?" came her reply.

"Because my place is here, on the ground."

"Perhaps my place is up there." He smiled a bit at the answer. She reached into the air and waved her hand at him, gesturing toward herself. "Come. Lay with me." Stretching her neck to look up across the grass at him, she watched as he made no movement to join her. "Come!" Her hand wiggle was more insistent this time, and finally the man obeyed, walking closer.

Kneeling was finally coming effortlessly. For months, simple movements had been painful and arduous, but now as he sank to his side to lay down, he noticed the ease with which the motion came. He brought his head to lay beside hers, his body stretched opposite to her to allow him closer.

"Do you not see the beauty of the sky?" Svnoyi's eyes focused up into the darkness and his gaze followed suit. He furrowed his brows.

"No," he affirmed, garnering a laugh from his companion.

"Millions of stars shining like pearls in a black sea," she continued. "It is so vast. Endless. Constant, and still somehow ever-changing." Her voice had softened, almost longing and laced with wonder. The tone brought Toshitada pause, and he turned his head quietly to look at her. Suddenly, she reached a hand into the sky, pointing. "Look! Look there."

He obliged and followed her gesture, looking back into the black depths of the heavens. "What am I looking for?"

"Just watch, you will see," she said excitedly.

He watched the sky intently, still unsure of what he was looking for but compelled to indulge her. Several moments passed in silence, each one longer than that preceding it, until suddenly he saw it: a single, brilliant white streak swept across the sky before dissipating. His eyes widened.

"What was that?" His voice betrayed his amazement.

"My people call it a dying star," she replied.

"How did you know that would happen?"

"It happens every year at this time. It is a sign that winter is at its end, and spring is coming." She smiled, dropping her gaze from the stars to look at him. "Spring is my favorite season."

"Is it?"

"Mm. The colors, when everything blossoms. The cherry trees, especially. Their first bloom is always near my birthday," she noted cheerfully, looking back to the sky.

"That makes sense," Toshitada remarked softly, "all beautiful things are born in spring."

Svnoyi turned her head, finding Toshitada's stormy, ocean blue eyes fixed on her. There was softness in his gaze she had not seen before, intense but still tender. He reached a hand up to gently brush his knuckles along her cheekbone and temple.

* * *

"I am sorry."

They were the only words he could offer. Toshitada looked down at the gentle face that had watched over him tirelessly for so long. There were no tears, and her lips were still, but as those big, gold-flecked eyes returned his gaze, he could not ignore the sadness within them.

"I must return to my village," he continued. She managed the softest of smiles and nodded kindly.

"I know." Svnoyi reached out to take his hands into hers. Even now he found himself in awe of their tenderness, and he was quick to close his fingers around them. "May your journey be safe, and your path always lit, Toshitada. Perhaps we will meet again someday, in this lifetime or another."

His heart ached. His mind swirled with every word he wanted to say to her, but he could not bring any of them to his lips. It took all the strength he possessed to let go of those small, delicate fingers and finally push his feet to turn away, facing the horse waiting patiently for its rider. He mounted it in silence, fearing what he would say if he allowed himself to speak.

Toshitada took a final look over his shoulder, his eyes settling on Svnoyi for the last time. Feeling his throat clench, he turned away, ushering his steed forward into the forest.

 _When the journey is not difficult, I will know we have succeeded_.

Difficult. How could she have ever known that word would take on such a different meaning to him? The path was simple, well-worn, its gravel even under his horse's hooves. His wounds had long healed, his body restored to its youthful strength and free of pain. Even the day was calm and facile, a mild spring morning illuminated by a warm golden sun and cooled by a gentle breeze.

 _Spring is my favorite season_.

That smile flashed in his memory. An easy journey physically, perhaps. But even as he thought so, his heart panged. And for the first time, he realized not all wounds resulted from swords and spears.

Toshitada's mind wandered and he allowed his horse to slow its pace before coming to a stop. Blue-green eyes drifted upward to settle on a canopy of soft pink splashed against the crystalline sky. Cherry trees.

 _Their first bloom_.

He pressed his heel into the stallion's side, bringing it to turn. Its stride was a slow peter at first, but as the path continued, its rider leaned forward, urging the steed into a gallop. Gravel flicked to each side as the horse dashed through the trees.

She heard the sound long before she acknowledged it. A rhythmic rumbling, steady and escalating as it grew closer. It was only when the flowers she was tending began trembling that Svnoyi's attention was piqued. She looked up and turned to look over her shoulder in search of the disturbance.

Toshitada emerged from the forest path, his steed sprinting over the gravel toward her. Svnoyi was on her feet in an instant, swinging round to face him as he approached.

"Toshitada!" Her voice was laced with confusion and muddled with joy she tried to conceal. He brought the horse to a stop, its feet still in motion as he swung his leg over to dismount in a single, sweeping movement.

"Come with me," he insisted. His gaze was met with wide eyes.

"What?"

"To my village."

Svnoyi shook her head lightly. "I would be an outsider again. Acceptance does not come easily for a foreigner, you know this."

He took a step closer to her. Finally, he willed himself to reach out to her, taking her diminutive form into his arms and drawing her against his body. "That does not matter if you come with me as my bride." His grasp was firm, but there was the slightest tremble in his hands as he feared her answer. He could not leave without her again.

Her heart skipped a beat. She met his gaze, intense and sincere, and felt suddenly breathless. Her hands came to rest against his chest and she offered the smallest nod, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes. I will."


	11. Chapter 11: The Immortal

"Whoa, you were married?" Kento was back on his feet now, staff clutched in both hands and aimed at the ready.

"No." Anubis's answer was quieter this time, and his gaze broke away from Iris to look grimly at the ground.

"We _should have been_ ," she growled, her fiery eyes still locked on the Warlord. "But he _vanished_."

"You joined the Dynasty," Sage deduced.

"How sweet. Anubis, reunited with his long-lost love." Dais's voice dripped with cold sarcasm, his arms crossing over his chest.

"Anubis," Iris repeated, "is that what you're calling yourself now?" She watched the man with narrowed eyes, her words punctuated with disgust. "God of the afterlife, that's appropriate."

"Oh, she sounds bitter," Cale sneered, a cruel smirk pulling across his face to mock his comrade.

Anubis paid the man no heed. His eyes had moved back to Iris, transfixed on this ghost of his past. She was so different, yet still somehow so much the same. Those gold-flecked eyes had not changed, but they harbored no tenderness for him now. That long dark hair was just as he remembered, but drawn back for battle. The slender, elegant body once dressed in simple linens was instead fitted with wicked grey metal. And small, delicate hands of healing gripped a vicious weapon of destruction.

"The Oblivion armor," Anubis murmured. "How ironic, that you would be gifted with the most powerful and deadly of them all."

"You should join us," Sekhmet hissed. "The two of you could be together at last."

"There is nothing I could possibly want less," she growled, her voice brutal and venomous.

"Then it is time for you to _die_!" The Warlord lunged for her with swords drawn. She was quick to meet him, catching the blades in the heel of Anubis's sickle. She slung the weapon's weighted claw in a circle to gain momentum before swinging it across her body to strike Sekhmet across the head and knock him away.

Cale swept toward her, only to be struck as she swung the claw back across to her right side. She took a graceful swing at him with the sickle, gashing his chest plate before jumping away to escape as the men attempted to close her in.

"Dude, she knows how to use that thing," Kento remarked to himself. As she darted for Rowen, Dais withdrew his scythes from his back in preparation to attack. Hardrock raised his weapon, spinning it over his head. "Ah, no you don't! Iron Rock Crusher!"

Iris had only barely slipped the sickle blade under the web tethering Strata to break the threads to free him when Hardrock's attack tore through the street. Rowen wrapped his arms around her, drawing her against his body and cradling her head between his shoulder and hand to shield it as the asphalt split and boulders splintered into the air.

"Just how old are you, anyway?" Rowen asked as he released her from his grasp.

"This is _not the time_ ," came her incredulous reply.

"Right, sorry," he winced.

"Anubis!" Cale barked.

He could not hear him, or at least he chose not to. His eyes remained fixed on Iris as she got to her feet with Rowen, his own weapon still grasped in her hands. He knelt down and collected his helmet, lifting it quietly to stare into the empty mask.

"Forget him, he is useless to us now!" Dais struggled to get to his feet.

 _Return to me, Warlords!_

"What?" A frustrated bewilderment crossed Cale's face.

"But Master Talpa—" Sekhmet hissed.

 _SILENCE! The odds are now against you, you will not win this battle! Return to me!_

Any effort the men made to protest was quickly silenced. A haunting aura surrounded each Warlord and in a blinding flash, they were gone. The caretaker jerked her hands back as Anubis's weapon was violently wrenched from them and vanished.

A disconcerted hush settled on the Ronins. Iris watched where Anubis had been standing for a moment before exhaling slowly and moving her eyes across the warriors.

"If you thought we had a lot of questions before, you've got another thing coming," Kento declared.

* * *

" _Master, she was unarmed_!" Cale's voice betrayed unchecked fury.

"The girl retains a measure of the Oblivion's power, even when she does not wear it," Talpa growled, "without Anubis, you are no match for her and the Ronin Warriors together."

"Yes, Anubis was weak," Sekhmet murmured. "He ruined our entire plan."

"His loyalty to the Dynasty is faltering," his master acknowledged.

"Because of that woman," Dais remarked thoughtfully.

"Yes." The emperor was quiet for a moment. "A change of strategy is in order. I want her captured and brought to me alive at any cost."

"And what of Anubis?"

"Her presence here may reseal his allegiance to me. But rest assured, Dais, he will suffer for his defiance."

* * *

Iris quietly inspected their surroundings, peering in the shattered windows of buildings. She was composed again now, her fire extinguished and replaced with uncanny tranquility. There was an obvious alertness in her gait, however, as she examined the shadowy crevices of the ruined street.

"Well, you're not our host anymore," Ryo said, "so now I can ask. How old _are_ you?" A small chuckle preceded her reply.

"Somewhere over four-hundred," Iris confirmed, "I lost track a long time ago."

"How?"

"The armor of Oblivion requires a keeper." She stopped to gaze at her own reflection in a cracking, mirrored door. "And in return it offers eternal life."

"Have you been in that cemetery all that time?" Sage asked.

"No. I've moved around a lot. In fact, I've lived in most of the cities in the country by now," she replied. She stopped to consider her next words. "Immortality complicates things. When you live among other people, you have a few decades before they start to question why you haven't aged. Then they get suspicious. Scared. And you never know what someone will do when they're scared." She turned round to face them. "I've been accused of witchcraft, had my home burned down, been run out of town. As strange as Muhimura may be, it's one of the most normal lives I've lived."

"How do you get close to anyone like that?" Cye's brows furrowed.

"You don't." The answer was simple, and it offered no comfort or optimism.

"Man," Kento lamented, "you were in love with a _Warlord_."

"That was another lifetime." There was a coldness to her voice now and she walked past the man to take a seat on what remained of a metal bench. Cye smacked his companion in the arm.

" _Ow_ , what?" Hardrock rubbed at his arm gingerly, his cluelessness garnering an eyeroll from Torrent.

"I'm sorry." Ryo followed the caretaker to her place on the bench. He heard the small, dry laugh that came in response.

"For what?" She looked up to him, leaning forward to set her elbows on her knees.

"That must have hurt," he continued, "seeing him after all that time." She was quiet for a long, uneasy moment.

"I knew he'd left me to join Talpa," Iris said finally, her gaze shifting down to her hands now knotted together. "For some reason, I never considered that meant becoming one of his Warlords." She looked back up and across the pavement to Mia, who had remained in the relative safety of the van with Yuli. "What do you know about his armor?"

"Anubis wears the Armor of Cruelty," Mia replied. "The armors of the Dark Warlords are strengthened by their masters' evil, and Talpa chose the wickedest men he could find to bear them."

"Toshitada was not wicked," Iris declared. "He was greedy, and power-hungry, but never wicked."

The statement brought Mia pause. Looking at Iris now, she realized she had neglected the most important truth of their recent revelation. "You really loved him, didn't you?"

"I did." The woman's eyes drifted off to gaze at some distant point on the ground. "And you see how he repaid me for that."

* * *

 _So much pain_.

Searing agony tore through every fiber of his body, his flesh burning. He could vaguely hear the low, otherworldly chanting that surrounded him over the sound of his own tortured screams.

Anubis managed to draw an eye open, his vision flooding with sweltering orange light. His body seized, and his breath caught in his chest as he struggled unsuccessfully in the unseen grasp holding him. The warbling, distorted glow of the light twisted with shadows, causing gold halos to streak across his sight.

 _Her eyes_.

As the image permeated his thoughts, the pain coursing through him seemed to ease. Familiar eyes he had long since forgotten, a memory long erased, now fresh and vivid and relentless. He remembered those eyes as he had last seen them: bright, soft, contented. And then, just as suddenly, they changed, world-worn and full of anger.

 _It was my fault_.

His chest tightened, his heart aching. It was dull at first, and he thought certainly it was the result of the spirits' influence on him. But as it grew, he recognized it as something he had felt only once before, years ago, in another life.

A strangled sob escaped the Warlord as the Nether spirits' grasp on him tightened, crushing him, bearing down on his body. The chanting grew louder, their presence drawing closer. His face burned, scorching tears rolling down his cheeks.

Underneath the aching in his heart, he felt the smallest sliver of cold, creeping darkness. It pulsated with each ghostly word uttered, struggling to grow against the warmth within.

 _No_. _You will not break me this time_.


	12. Chapter 12: Specter

"I see what those boys meant when they said they hadn't had a real meal in a while." Iris turned a bag of chips over in her hand to look at the nutrition label disapprovingly. Taking a seat on the floor in the ajar door of the van, she popped the bag open and offered it first to Yuli. The boy smiled and happily accepted, grabbing a few of the seasoned chips. He promptly made duck bills out of the snack, held them between his lips and wiggled his brows at Iris, garnering a laugh and provoking a fish-face from her in return.

Ryo watched the woman quietly from where the warriors had gathered on the sidewalk. She was a strange sight now: a kind face set atop dark, wicked underarmor. The image of the Oblivion armor flashed in his mind, ghoulish and more frightening even than the armor of Cruelty with its demonic, ogreish form. It seemed ill-fitted to a woman currently embroiled in a silly face contest with an eight-year-old.

"I feel like the world got flipped on its head," Kento lamented. "How'd we end up with the bride of Anubis? Hell, how'd he even _have_ one?"

"They were all human, Kento," Rowen reminded. "They all had families once. And they probably all destroyed them, just like he did."

"I don't know about all of this," Sage said cautiously, his arms crossed.

"What do you mean?" Mia asked.

"Something doesn't add up. If she's always had the armor, why didn't the Ancient One just tell us she was who we should be looking for? And why did she tell us to go to Aokigahara, where Cale just happened to be waiting for us, instead of confronting us in the cemetery?"

"She said—"

"I know what she said." His pale eyes drifted across his companions. "The Warlords took all of us down but could barely land a hit on her."

"The Ancient told us this thing is powerful," Ryo noted.

"Or maybe they just weren't trying very hard."

"Just what are you saying?" Kento got his feet.

"I'm saying this could all be one elaborate trap, and we're falling for it."

"Come on, man," Kento's attention shifted across his comrades. "Cye?" Torrent looked up with an uncomfortable frown, meeting Hardrock's eyes briefly before looking back down. Kento let out a disappointed grunt and pushed past Ryo.

"Hey, what're you—"

"She's _not_ one of the bad guys," Kento huffed over his shoulder. "And I'm tired of you guys treating her like one."

" _Kento_ ," Cye called out.

Iris looked up at the man as he approached, offering a small smile. It was a gesture that was returned as Kento took a seat beside her, setting his elbows on his knees.

"So. Four hundred years." He smirked a bit at her. "No wonder you're such a good cook. That's a lot of practice." She laughed a bit, nodding in acknowledgment.

"Your friends don't trust me," Iris stated after a moment of silence. He frowned.

"How'd you guess?"

"I know a lot about people. I've had a long time to figure them out." She looked at him seriously, "and I've been around a lot of them that didn't trust me."

"Yeah, well, I do," Kento declared.

"Me too!" Yuli chirped. Iris smiled.

"They're all hung up on something the Ancient said," Kento continued, "or didn't say, about who we'd find with the Oblivion armor."

"The Ancient," Iris said, her brows furrowed, "you've said that name before, who—" Her words dropped off suddenly and her eyes moved across the empty street. She extended her arm across Yuli, "Yuli, get in the van."

"Huh?" The boy looked first in the direction she did and, finding nothing, his eyes moved to Kento uncertainly.

A strange, trilling sound caused the earth to tremble, and Yuli scrambled backward into the van as Iris and Kento got to their feet. Wispy shadows swirled over the concrete before condensing and materializing into three haunting suits of dark armor. After a moment of apparent emptiness, eyes filled out the hollow sockets of each familiar mask now staring the twosome down. Kento's brows furrowed as he looked across the street to his comrades; the Warlords had intentionally positioned themselves between the warriors.

"She knew they were there before they appeared," Sage noted, his cool eyes narrowing. Ryo's sight remained somewhere between the Warlords and Iris. _Maybe Sage is right_.

"We meet again, little girl," Cale snarled. Iris looked at each of their faces in turn.

"Where is he?" It was much less a question than a demand. She took several calm steps toward them, planting her feet firmly in front of Sekhmet to meet his gaze. "Too ashamed to face me now?"

"Anubis is suffering for his disloyalty," Sekhmet hissed. "He is weak. But rest assured, we are not."

The sound of scraping metal and a brilliant flash followed. Sekhmet had drawn his swords and struck, but Iris was just as blindingly fast. Her hands grasped the blades, halted just in front of her chest. The Warlord's wide and disbelieving eyes met hers, gold and burning with fearless intensity. She was quick to release the blades, using her leverage to force the man back. An attempt to dodge a subsequent attack from Dais was unsuccessful as the man struck her in the side with his morningstar, landing a painful hit that sent her to the ground.

A vivid burst bathed the street in white light, and seconds later Kento intervened, fully armored with his staff extended over Iris and catching the Warlord of Illusion's scythes against its shaft. Hardrock's interference afforded the woman an escape as she pushed up to her knees and darted across the road into the waiting crowd of the other Ronins. Cye was the first to respond, catching Iris mid-stride and sweeping her around behind him.

"Are you alright?" He looked her over with troubled sea-green eyes, noting that her stance now lurched to one side. Barely discernible against the dark grey of her underarmor, a rusty color smeared across her ribcage. She pressed her hand into her side with a painful grimace, her breath hitching in her chest.

Kento knocked Dais off his feet, struggling to ward off Sekhmet simultaneously. "Cye, man, I could use some help over here!"

" _Ryo_." Cye's voice was tinged with urgency. Ryo moved in behind him to coil his arm around Iris's waist and draw her back against his body. She stumbled briefly and reached up round his shoulders to support herself. Freed of her weight, Cye charged forward with his trident to strike Sekhmet just as Dais recovered to hit Kento with his blades.

In a bolt of green, Sage swept into the fray, his sword raised to meet Cale, who had nearly cleared the distance between himself, Ryo, and Iris.

"Rowen, get Mia and Yuli out of here!" Ryo ordered. The man drew and notched an arrow as he moved in front of Mia to shield her.

"Let's go!" Rowen looked back at the woman, who drew closer to his back for protection.

"Right!" She followed his steps as he moved nimbly across the street toward the van. Jumping in the driver's seat as Rowen slid the side door shut, she started the engine and floored the accelerator to send the vehicle speeding in reverse.

Somewhere in the chaos, a raucous clanking and rattling echoed off the buildings. Iris's gaze was drawn up from her wounds and she froze, her brows furrowed and eyes wide.

The dark, terrifying form of Anubis now stood between Cale and Sage, his former ally's sword coiled tight in the chain of his sickle. That mane of auburn hair was distinct in the dimness, and Ryo realized he was without his helmet.

" _What_?!" Cale roared, his eyes filled with fury.

"Wildfire!" Anubis shouted, looking back over his shoulder to the man, "you must get her out of the city so she can transform!"

"What?" Ryo's brows furrowed, and he instinctively reached his free arm across the woman as if to shield her.

" _Go_! We will hold them off!"

" _You will pay for this treachery, Anubis_!" Cale wrenched his sword backward, pulling the Warlord along with it and slamming him into the asphalt. Freed of the chain's grasp, he raised his sword and drove it down, barely blocked in time by Kento's staff. Anubis looked up, first to the weapon, then to the Ronin.

"Never thought I'd be saving your skin," Kento remarked. He bunted Cale's sword away and reached a hand down to the man to help him to his feet.

"Cover us!" Ryo shouted to Rowen as he backed up to avoid turning his back to the battle. Strata bolted toward the two, arrow still notched at the ready and aimed toward the Warlords. Confident in his protection, Ryo turned with Iris and started toward the city limit. Her steps were staggered, stumbling as she struggled against the pain of her wounds.

Finally, Iris stopped, panting and lurched forward. Ryo kept her firmly supported against his side, "we're almost there," he assured her. When he received only a breathless headshake in response, he sheathed his katana and knelt to wrap his arm under her knees, sweeping her up into his grasp.

" _Ryo_!" It was Rowen's voice behind him, calling out in warning. " _Arrow Shock Wave_!" Blue light flashed in the distance, and Iris managed to look over Ryo's shoulder long enough to see Strata attempting to deflect Dais's scythes. The blades tore through the air past him and finally struck the back of Wildfire's legs, sending both warriors reeling.

Iris hit the gravel feet ahead of Ryo and skid on her side, her face ducked into the crook of her arm to protect it from dust and dirt. Raising her head, she managed to call out to the man, " _Ryo_ , _watch it_!"

He had barely stopped rolling when a long blade thrust down into the gravel by his head. He rolled to his back and kicked both legs up, hardly acknowledging what he was striking but hitting his mark directly in the chest. Cale stumbled back briefly as Ryo got to his feet, drawing both swords and crossing them in front of himself.

"It is over for you, boy!" Cale barked.

Iris looked up and around quietly. The haunting silence of the city had been overtaken by scatterings of chirping birds. The sky was still dark, but the eerie green haze that permeated the firmament had dissipated, leaving behind inky heavens flecked with glimmering stars. Her eyes shifted down to the men as she struggled to her feet.

"Wrong," she declared.

 _Armor of Oblivion, Dao Ki_!

The light was blinding, sweltering, and in an instant, it was gone, leaving a grim image in its wake: looming skeletal armor swathed in black. Feathery shadows poured from its joints and face mask, and ghostly bluish-white flames appeared to dance at its feet. Its wicked scythe flashed in the darkness, glinting with the spectral lights beneath.

Iris's eyes burned through the shadows of her mask as she raised the scythe in a sweeping motion overhead.

" _Phantom Soul Reaper_!" The words took on an eerie, hollow echo and all at once, the sounds of life around her silenced. She swung the blade and drove it down into the gravel, ghostly bluish light spreading from the blade like fire.

Ryo looked over his shoulder as the ghost fire swept toward him. Time appeared to distort around it, and as it approached, a black fog surrounded his vision as the center of his sight faded to blinding white. His chest ached only briefly as he felt his breath drawn from it, and a single, heavy beat of his heart punctuated the final burst of light that obscured his vision entirely.


	13. Chapter 13: Witchhunt

A rush of hot air filled his lungs, burning as if breathing in the heat of a bonfire. There was a gasp and the contrast of stark, cold air, and Ryo realized that the first flood of breath was not his at all. Blue eyes opened, brimming with tears as he choked and sputtered. A suntanned face was clear in his sight now, lingering close with brown eyes watching for signs of life.

"He's awake," Iris sighed, her voice revealing relief. She straightened up, hands folded on the man's chest. "He's alive."

Ryo blinked furiously to clear his vision. Looking up, his gaze was returned by the sea green eyes of Cye, who cracked a smile as his comrade came to.

"Hey," came Torrent's soft voice, "are you alright?"

"Yeah, what—"

"That's convenient." Sage's stern voice cut through Ryo's delirium, and he saw Iris look up at the man.

"What was that?" Her words were cold.

"You heard me," Sage replied. "Whose side are you on?" Iris looked around and put up a hand in a sarcastic gesture.

"I don't see any Warlords around," she said coolly, "and I don't recall you having anything to do with that."

"Yeah, that's also pretty convenient. The five of us didn't stand a chance against them, but somehow _you_ took them down like bowling pins."

"You have not trusted me since you stepped foot in my graveyard," Iris got to her feet, finger pointed accusingly at Sage.

"H-hey," Ryo managed, pushing up to his elbow weakly.

"You haven't given me a good reason," Sage fired back.

"I don't have to put up with this from you," Iris's voice was low and deadly, "or anyone else for that matter." She knelt and stuck her fingers through the eye sockets of her helmet's face mask to pick it up, turning her back on the men as she straightened up. "I'm going home." With that, she started walking.

"Hey, hang on," Kento said, jogging past Sage to follow her.

Light flashed off cold metal as the woman turned, cutting her scythe through the air across Kento's throat. He stopped in his path, his hands up in defense as he watched it pass by with wide eyes. Stunned but unharmed, he looked up to her to find her attention was not on him at all: Anubis now stood just beside him, without his helmet and with stormy blue eyes locked with Iris's. He, too, held his hands up by his head in surrender as the blade of her scythe lingered just below his jaw.

"I don't know what hole you crawled out of," Iris growled, "but you better crawl back into it."

"Iris," Anubis said carefully, "is that what they call you now?"

"Why," she demanded.

"I want to speak with you," he continued.

"What does Talpa think he's going to gain from this?" Her eyes watched him intently, narrowed and unblinking.

"This is not Talpa's doing. I am here of my own will."

A tense silence fell. Anubis remained calm, his breath low and even despite his awareness that even the lightest touch from the woman's blade meant death. He could feel all eyes were on him, but his own gaze remained locked with hers, still so full of anger and unlike the kind woman he remembered.

"I think he's telling the truth." It was Cye's gentle voice that finally broke the anxious hush.

"Come on, Iris," Kento said carefully, "put it down."

The Ronins waited with bated breath as another moment passed and the woman remained unmoved. Finally, with a quick, startling motion, she withdrew the scythe and let it fall to her side, breaking their gaze and letting her chin drop a bit as she looked away to some distant point on the horizon.

"You," she said finally, "you want to talk to me." There was a bitterness to her voice now, and her words came with a caustic, dry huff. "After four hundred years." She moved her eyes back to the Warlord, raising her voice, " _how dare you_." Her gaze was fiery and furious and unwavering. "Do you have _any idea_ what they did to me because of you?"

"No." Anubis's voice was gentle now, his eyes sincere, "but I will listen if you tell me."

Iris gazed at him for a long moment in silence before looking away again, her jaw clenched.

* * *

She felt them before she could hear them. The ground trembled and the flame of her lantern shivered, and finally a thunderous rumbling echoed through the village. Svnoyi grabbed the lantern and got to her feet, hurrying across the house to the open door. Emerging from the doorway, she walked out on to the steps and waited as the horses approached.

Her stomach sank. He was not with them.

She watched as the deep brown steed leading the herd came to a stop, its rider dismounting. This was the man Toshitada trusted to lead his men and village in his absence: Naoki, a proud, strong soldier with piercing grey eyes. He removed his helmet as he faced the woman.

"You did not find him," Svnoyi said.

"No." Naoki's voice was firm and low. She closed her eyes and let out a despairing breath.

"I am beginning to fear he is never coming home."

"Yes. That is what we now believe as well."

The statement caught her attention and she opened her eyes to meet his gaze. His words offered no comfort, and they had been so confident in their finality. She walked down the short steps and closed the distance between them, nervous butterflies flittering in her stomach as she awaited the worst.

"Why? Did you find something?"

"Nothing," Naoki replied, "not even footprints. As if he simply vanished." Svnoyi furrowed her brows.

"I do not understand." It was then she noticed that several of the men had not dismounted, but instead closed in around her on their horses. There was a seriousness in her tone as she spoke again, "Naoki?"

"Magic," he said. "Witchcraft." There was no misunderstanding in her mind now, and a chill chased down her spine.

"You think I did this." She clutched her lantern tightly, noticing too late the men who had approached her on foot. Each took a firm grasp of her wrists, forcing the lantern to drop to the dirt as she resisted. It was a brief struggle as she acknowledged their strength and clenched her fists to lock her arms down to her sides.

"You were the last to see him alive," Naoki continued, drawing closer.

"I would _never_ harm him!" There was resilience and defiance in her voice. " _I_ cared for him when he was injured, returned him to you—"

"And why did you do that?" The man stared her down with his steely eyes now, frightening in the dimness. "You received no payment. You asked for nothing in return."

" _I loved him_ ," Svnoyi breathed. "I wanted to see him _healed_ , I wanted to see him well! His health was my repayment."

"Yes. Koma was the perfect healthy, virile young man for your magic." He had accepted her statement as a confession.

The commotion had drawn other villagers from their sleep, collecting in their doorways in confusion. It was a nervous energy Naoki seemed to feed off now, his cold eyes resolved in his suspicion.

"Naoki, please." Her voice quivered, betraying fear as she felt him slipping further from reason and rational thought.

"I knew something was not right with you," he hissed. "Your _miracles_ , your _medicines_. Your stories of the fireballs in the sky. You have knowledge not of this world, because _you are not of this world_."

A distinct feeling of dread swept over Svnoyi, her heart pounding in her ears. Her eyes darted around the darkness in search of an escape and, finding none, her blood ran cold.

"We were deceived!" Naoki declared to the villagers. "By a witch from the land of the dying sun!" There was a horrified murmuring in the wake of his words, and he strode past his horse in search of something. Returning, he faced the captive woman, a short, broken tree limb now clenched in his fist. His approach was menacing, and as he drew near, he knelt to place the end of the limb into the lantern flame. "She has already claimed Toshitada. We must destroy this evil before it spreads."

Naoki extinguished the flame, leaving a smoldering, charred stake. The soldiers restraining Svnoyi forced her down to her knees, taking a fistful of her hair to hold her head back.

"Koma was blinded," Naoki's voice was low and dangerous, "and so shall you be."

She struggled briefly against her captors, a resistance that was short-lived. A brilliant red light streaked across the vision in her right eye, then her left, before abruptly going black. Searing pain swept through her body, and a blood-curdling scream cut through the night air. An agonized whimpering followed that she did not even recognize as her own, akin to a wounded animal and intercut with guttural groaning.

Her legs felt like lead as the hands restraining her dragged her to her feet, stumbling her through the darkness she was unable to escape.


	14. Chapter 14: Loyalty

Anubis's face betrayed the sheer horror tumbling in his mind. A wave of nausea washed over him, and his breath hung in his chest, threatening to heave if he should let it go. He slowly shook his head.

"No," he breathed, his brows twisted in distress.

"I don't understand, how—" Rowen's voice was quiet but questioning.

"That is _exactly_ why I am alone," Iris said, her tone low as her eyes moved away from Anubis to the Ronins, "why I will _always_ be alone. People persecute what they don't understand." She gave a final searing glare to the Warlord as she turned away. There was a burst of white light, and her scythe disappeared, the skeletal armor following suit to leave her in jeans and a black shirt. "Good luck. Maybe the six of you stand a chance."

She was stopped in her tracks by a familiar metallic jingling that reverberated off their surroundings. Her head turned to look over her shoulder slowly, her eyes skimming the landscape for the sound's source.

The origin revealed itself as the white-haired monk appeared from the darkness, golden-winged staff in tow. Iris watched him in silence for a long moment, eyes wide as if she had seen a ghost. Her shoulders visibly rose and fell with each breath, though it was unclear if the labored movements were a result of the man's appearance or her wounds.

Finally, she turned and closed the distance between them, and as she reached him she threw her arms around his shoulders in a hug. The Ancient returned the embrace warmly, his arms firmly encircling her waist.

"Kaosu," Iris breathed.

"Iris, it has been a long time." He released her to look over her face, but doing so he found the blood that had seeped into his robe's sleeve and his concern was stirred. "You have been injured."

"It's nothing," she dismissed, shaking her head, "I'm fine—"

"Whoa, now hang on a second." Kento was abrupt in his interruption, taking several steps toward the two, "how do _you two_ know each other?"

"What did she just call you?" Cye's voice was quiet in its addition.

"Kaosu," the monk replied, a small smirk perking up on his lips. "It was my name before I became known as the Ancient One."

" _You're_ the Ancient One." Realization permeated Iris's voice and she shook her head, "I should have guessed, monk."

"Iris is a very old friend," he continued, "and someone I trust with great responsibility."

"The Oblivion armor," Anubis murmured. His voice drew the Ancient One's attention to the Warlord.

"Anubis." The monk's expression remained unreadable, but his voice was tinged with astonishment. "That is a face I never expected to find here." His head shifted down to Iris, "I can assume you did not, either." The statement was met with cold silence from the woman, who kept her back to the warriors and diverted her attention away from the monk's gaze. "I know this displeases you, but you must allow me to speak with him."

"Do whatever you want," Iris muttered, "they're not my concern anymore." With that, she backed away from the man and turned to resume her path homeward.

"They?" The Ancient One glanced at the warriors briefly before turning his head to call out to her, "Iris, the Ronin Warriors will need your help. If not for their sake, for the sake of humanity."

The words brought her to pause. It seemed an eternity as she stood faced away in silence, her fists clenched. She took a long, deep breath and released it in a tense exhale.

"Fine," she said finally. She turned to look at them now, pointing at Anubis first before gesturing to the group in a sweeping motion, "but _you_ stay over there. All of you." She turned back around and walked a short distance to plant herself on a rock.

"She is just as fiery as I remember," the Ancient mused. He moved across the landscape to the men somberly, standing to observe them each in turn. His gaze seemed to halt on Sage and he hummed in a moment of thought. "You have questions, Sage of the Halo."

"Why didn't you tell us who wielded the Oblivion armor?" Sage asked.

"I cannot simply give you all of the answers," he replied, "you must be willing to seek the truth for yourself. I wanted to know how you would approach such an ally, if you would trust her."

"How could we trust someone we didn't know?"

"Were you not expected to trust in each other as strangers?" The question brought Sage pause. "You still have much to learn, young warrior."

"But you said the armor's core was the essence of the Dynasty," Ryo noted.

"It is." The monk seemed amused, "but Iris is not its core. She is its keeper. She is responsible for balancing its darkness."

"Why her?" Anubis looked past him to Iris, who was now examining her wounds. "Why burden a gentle soul with something so evil?"

"Who better to wield something capable of death and destruction than someone with such reverence for life?" He smiled a bit. "You must understand that Iris has a far different relationship with the armor than you have with your own. The Oblivion's void must be balanced by the virtue of her spirit. Your armor, and the armors of all the Ronin Warriors and Warlords, seeks a master possessing virtue that directly aligns with itself."

Anubis's brows furrowed. _Virtue_? It was a word he had never associated with himself, and he dropped his gaze uncertainly. Clearly the monk was mistaken.

"Righteousness, trust, wisdom, life, and justice," the Ancient continued, "these are the virtues of the Ronin armors. And you, Anubis, bear the armor of Spring; at its heart, the virtue of loyalty."

 _Spring_. The Warlord's eyes drifted over the Ancient One's shoulder again to the dark-haired woman seated across the clearing. She had torn one of the sleeves from her shirt to staunch the bleeding of the puncture wounds in her side. The monk was quiet for a moment.

"Your heart knows the Dynasty is not your destiny," he said, seemingly aware of where the man's eyes had traveled.

"Ancient One," Anubis's gaze moved to the man, "if this is true, why was it Talpa who granted me the armor?"

"I purged Talpa's spirit from the mortal world long ago, and fractured his armor into those you now wear. Before he was banished, he reclaimed your armor, and the armors of the other Dark Warlords, and he nearly succeeded in recovering the Oblivion as well. He sought humans such as yourself to possess the armors, until such time as he can reunite all ten and conquer this realm."

"And then what happens to me?" There was a tone in his voice now that suggested he already knew the answer.

"You will no longer be of use to him, and you will die."

"That is not what he promised me." It was an empty statement, unquestioning as he accepted the monk's words.

"Anubis, you are loyal to your master the same as your armor is loyal to you. But it is your choice what master you serve."

The Warlord took a step back from the group and quietly sank to the ground. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, his gaze no longer focused. Ryo looked down at the man, uncertain but plagued with pangs of sympathy.

"Man, I _told you_." Kento had already removed himself from the Ancient's lecture, giving Sage's shoulder a rough push.

"Knock it off, Kento," Sage sighed.

"Not until you admit you were _wrong_."

"Ancient One." Rowen disregarded the bickering warriors, his voice firm. "There's something I still don't understand."

"And what is that, Rowen of the Strata?" The Ancient One turned his full attention to the blue-haired man.

"Iris told us," he found himself trailing off briefly, unsure of how to proceed, "she told us what happened to her. After Anubis joined the Dynasty."

"She was accused of and punished for witchcraft," he confirmed, "yes. She suffered heinous cruelty at the hands of ignorance."

"How? I mean, how is she—her eyes—"

The monk considered the warrior's words briefly. He reached a single hand up and grasped the brim of his hat. Lifting it, the moonlight fell onto his face, illuminating what was once restricted to shadow. Rowen's eyes widened, taken aback as the Ancient One's cold eyes were revealed. They had an almost inhuman appearance, their irises icy silver and glowing at their centers with bizarre adularescence.

"There are sacrifices worth making for the greater good," the Ancient remarked.


	15. Chapter 15: Sight

_Snap_.

The sound brought her pause. She lifted her head, her breath halted in her chest.

 _Snap_.

Fingers slowly reached out to her side, their tips poking something rough and dry. Confident it was the object she sought, she curled them around it silently and picked it up, deliberately bringing her arm back to her side. A long, quiet breath was drawn, and she turned her head slightly to listen again.

 _Snap_.

"Show yourself," she commanded.

The forest grew hauntingly still. For a moment, she considered that perhaps she had been mistaken. But just as quickly as the thought crossed her mind, it passed: there was another sound now, one she recognized without doubt.

"I know you are there," she declared, "I can hear you breathing."

She waited. _Snap_. The sound was closer now.

"Your speech." It was a man's voice that finally answered, all at once startling and soothing. "You are a foreigner." She raised her makeshift weapon.

"Who are you?"

"I am a simple monk," the voice replied, "traveling through this forest. Who are you?"

"I am a simple foreigner, traveling through this forest." The woods fell quiet again.

"Your camp looks quite permanent for someone merely traveling." The voice was behind her, and she heard him as he emerged from the foliage, leaves rustling underfoot. His gaze moved around the clearing, noting long-burned firewood in a hollowed pit and a tent woven from vines and scraps of cloth lined with waxy leaves.

Hearing his movements, she turned around to face him with her weapon raised. He shifted his attention to her to find she wielded simply a long, thick wooden stick, which she held at the ready. A slight chill slinked down his spine as he settled on her face. Suntanned and partially obscured, he found no eyes to meet with his as only a rusty-spotted shred of tied cloth looked back at him. "You have no sight."

"I have no eyes," she corrected.

"Why are you out here alone?"

"You ask too many questions, monk." She lowered the weapon to her side, her arm remaining tense and prepared to strike.

"You must accept my apologies, miss. It is not often I encounter someone wandering blind through the forest."

"I am neither wandering nor blind," she insisted. "I do not have eyes. That does not mean I cannot see."

"I do not understand," the monk said cautiously, his brows furrowing.

"You carry a walking stick of some kind," she said. "Taller than you, with metal rings at its top, and you do not actually require it for walking."

"How could you possibly know that?" She smirked ever slightly in response.

"You lift it from the ground when moving through trees under which it cannot pass. But your footsteps remain constant." She slowly reached out her stick, extending her arm as far as it would stretch and poking at the top of his staff to shift its rings. "And it jingles."

He narrowed his eyes a bit and took several deliberate steps toward her. As he did so, she straightened up and shifted one foot behind her, prepared to step back. "And there truly are no eyes under that cloth?"

"No."

"So you cannot see what I look like."

"I cannot." She waited a moment, then, cautiously, she reached her free arm forward to set her hand on his chest. Her thumb stroked across it. "You are wearing linen. Dark." She traced her palm across his collarbone to gently cup around his shoulder and trail down his arm. "And light."

"And how do you know that?"

"Heat. Darker cloth is warmer to touch." She drew her hand back and dropped it to her side. "There are many ways to see, monk. Not all require eyes."

* * *

Leaves rustled in the autumn breeze, whistling through the trees. Another sound reverberated beneath the wind's song, crisp crunching and a soft, haunting jingle, and she smiled quietly to herself.

"Monk," she announced. A gentle chuckle responded.

"Someday I will succeed in surprising you," he said.

"Not a chance." She reached her hand back behind her, and warm calloused fingers met it, curling around to grasp it as he stepped closer. She coiled her arm around his, not for guidance, but companionship. "I am looking for something today."

"Oh? And what is that?"

"A little flower, with layers of thin orange and yellow petals. It looks like fire flowers."

"Ah, yes, I am familiar with it," he said thoughtfully.

"I must go to the river first, though." She tugged at him gently as she reached out to a nearby tree trunk, running her fingers along its body. Feeling of the notches she had carved into it, she nodded, "this way."

It had been weeks, and still she amazed him. He allowed her to lead, as she always insisted, astounded by the fluency with which she moved through a landscape she could not see. It was a rare moment to catch her vulnerable, though she stumbled over a freshly fallen branch or exposed root from time to time. What was most astonishing, however, was her ostensibly endless optimism; she seemed unfazed by her incapacity, and once they had become familiar, he found her to be pleasantly cheerful.

They emerged from the trees to approach a small, gentle stream. Across a low-hanging vine hung several erratic shreds of clean linen, drying in the sun and waiting for collection. She released his arm and proceeded to pluck the cloths from their line.

As she collected the final cloth, he noticed something brought her pause. She tilted her head toward him a bit in silence, and at first, he thought perhaps she had heard something in the forest. Looking around to find nothing, he turned back to her.

"Is something wrong?"

"I should clean this one as well," she said quietly. Though she made no gesture, he recognized immediately what she meant. He took several slow steps to close the distance between them, and his fingertips brushed her elbow.

"Then do so." His voice was gentle, "I do not fear what I might see."

She hesitated. Finally, she reached up to untie the knot securing the cloth around her hair, removing it and lowering her hands slowly. He could see the rusty spots of blood that had seeped into the weave. Taking a long, trembling breath, she lifted her head toward him. Though he had braced for it, he could not have fully prepared: the damage was truly horrifying. Her lids were closed, sunken and hollow, surrounded by vicious purple bruising and mottled, burned flesh. Furious, weeping wounds circled the skin, healing but still excruciating. His heart ached as he gazed on her quietly.

"I am sure I am hideous," she said softly, breaking the unnerving silence.

"No," he replied firmly, "not hideous. Hurt." He cupped her hands in his own tenderly. "How did you come to be in this condition?"

"That is a story for another time, monk."

He watched her in contemplation before speaking again, "you may call me Kaosu." Her chin perked up slightly.

"And you may call me Svnoyi."

* * *

"It is late for you."

The voice was startling as it chirped from the branches above him. Kaosu looked up and around in search of it, finally settling his gaze on Svnoyi. She was seated on a long tree branch, her legs stretched out along the branch in front of her and back resting against the trunk.

"What are you doing up there?" He walked up closer to the tree, his brows furrowed.

"It is safer," she replied. "Most creatures that would seek to harm a sleeping human dwell on the ground."

"That is… quite an observation," the monk remarked. He watched as she carefully untied the length of twine securing her legs to the branch, wrapping it around her hand and nimbly climbing down to meet him.

"Why are you out here in the dark?" Svnoyi inquired.

"Restless," Kaosu replied. "I was observing the sky for a time, but the clouds have obscured it."

"I used to love looking at the stars." There was a tone of longing in her voice that brought him pause. "Would it be terrible of me to say that is what I miss most?"

"No." He watched Svnoyi raise her chin almost instinctively, as if she might see something despite the impossibility. Drawing a long, calming breath, he lifted his hands to cradle her arms in his. "Svnoyi, who did this to you?"

"What would make you think it was done to me?" He could see her throat clench uncomfortably.

"Your wounds are deliberate." The monk waited patiently for a reply. Receiving none, he pressed, "Svnoyi."

"The villagers," she replied finally, "the clan of the man I was to marry. He vanished. Overnight. He left clothing, his horse, but nothing else. They searched for him, but he was never found. He disappeared without a trace." Her voice quivered as she continued, "they are convinced I am a witch, and that I sacrificed him for black magic."

"It was punishment," Kaosu murmured.

"Please do not leave," Svnoyi whimpered, desperately grasping his arms. He drew her closer to reassure her of his presence.

"I would not leave you." Though he knew she could not see him, he gazed upon the cloth protecting her eyes. "Tell me. What was his name?"

"Toshitada," she replied, "Koma Toshitada."

Kaosu felt his blood run cold. His breath hung in his chest as the name repeated in his mind, and his grasp on her arms slacked. Svnoyi sensed the uneasy chill in the air and her throat clenched. His silence was deafening.

"You do not believe me," she breathed.

"Yes," the monk said firmly, a tinge of melancholy in his voice now, "I do." He hesitated before speaking again, "because I know what happened to him." He saw her brows knit, and she drew closer, her fingers tightening on his arms. Her lip trembled.

"Was he killed?"

"No." He could almost feel his heart breaking for her as she shook her head a bit. "You speak of witchcraft, mystical power. I must assume you know something of it." He felt the slightest recoil from the woman and did not wait for a response, "you do not need to be frightened. But you must know there are evil forces that threaten this world. Centuries ago, a wicked being by the name of Talpa attacked the mortal realm. He was defeated, his spirit banished to a dark place known as the Nether Realm."

He felt the deep, shivering breath she drew. "Despite all efforts, Talpa was not destroyed. He remained restless, feeding from the greed and wickedness of humans, and in his quest for domination, he sought mortal men to serve him. In exchange, he promised them great power and immortality."

"He joined him." The statement startled the monk. There was no doubt in Svnoyi's voice as she spoke, and her arms slipped away from Kaosu's grasp. She took a small step back from him, her heart racing and yet somehow heavy in her chest.

"You have already figured it out," he said quietly.

She took another step backward, her back shifting up against a tree trunk. Her voice strained. "He left me."

"Svnoyi, I am so sorry."

She slid down the trunk silently into a seated position on the forest floor, her knees bent up and hands folded against her lap. There was only the slightest sound, a breathless, broken whimper, and Svnoyi pressed her hand against her mouth to silence it. Her shoulders quivered as she wept bitterly behind the barrier of her fingers. She knew the monk spoke the truth.

Kaosu waited with utmost patience. As the trembling of her arms eased, he stepped closer and knelt to her. There were no tears, her wounds having destroyed her ability to create them. "You could have a second chance at a normal life." He received a headshake in response, and reached out to settle his hand on her arm tenderly. She dropped her hand from her lips and brought her fingers to rest on his. "I am more than a simple monk. It was I who defeated Talpa those centuries ago, and exiled him to the Nether Realm. And just as he seeks mortals to serve him, I, too, seek those to serve me."

"I do not understand," she said.

"From Talpa came ten mystical suits of armor, and all but one was infused with a human virtue that would serve to shield them from his evil. This final armor could not be enchanted. It requires a guardian who will voluntarily accept the task of its keep. A person whose own spirit is righteous and capable of overcoming the wickedness of the armor, who will protect it from Talpa's dark influence." He gave her arm a gentle squeeze. "You are one of most remarkable people I have ever met, with one of the strongest spirits I have ever known."

"Look at me," Svnoyi said bitterly. "How could I ever protect anything?"

"I can restore your sight." Kaosu paused at the interest evident in her face. "I can think of no other I would trust with this task. But do not take this decision lightly. It is not a lifetime commitment, it is an eternal commitment. Once you accept the armor, you will not age so long as it is in your care, and I cannot promise the day it will no longer need protection."

"I accept." There was no hesitation in her words.

"Svnoyi," he said carefully.

"I accept."

The monk observed her briefly. Even blindfolded, there was stark determination in her face. He shifted to allow his knees to drop into the leaves, leaving him in a position of prayer. Reaching forward, he carefully removed her cloth; she offered only slight resistance, instinctually lowering her head to attempt to obscure her wounds. Kaosu smiled softly as he gazed on her face for a moment, illuminated by the ghostly glow of moonlight. He then closed his eyes, and soft murmurs of prayer floated on the night wind.

The world was suddenly filled with light, flooding Svnoyi's eyes with hot tears that distorted all into blurry masses of greyish-white. Her eyelids fluttered frantically, causing the tears to fall, and as she clenched them shut there was a familiar pressure she had not felt in what seemed like ages. She clasped her hands to her face, gently pressing her fingertips against her lids to soothe the burning sensation underneath them.

She was slow to draw her eyes open. Everything was blindingly bright, even in the night and painfully so after months of unending darkness. Her fingers curled around her brows to shield her vision from the cold moonlight, and her breath escaped in brief, stunned gasps as her eyes struggled to focus.

It was several moments before she could settle her gaze on the man standing before her. First a form of dark blue, then white linen, and finally sheets of pure white hair flowing from beneath a woven hat came into focus. Svnoyi pushed up to her knees, her hands slowly pulling from her brow to reach out to him. Trembling fingers touched his cheeks.

All at once, realization struck her. A sob choked past her quivering lips and tears swelled to pour down her face. She gently cupped his jaw in her palms, and a small smile perked on his mouth.

"Kaosu," she breathed, her eyes filled with wonder as she looked over the face of the monk. Her hands dropped to his chest, brushing over his clothing to feel the familiar weave of the fabric.

Her joy was short-lived as she looked up at him again, this time her vision focusing under the shadow of his hat. She immediately caught glimpse of his eyes, illumined with an unearthly bluish glow that permeated his irises. As he stared just slightly over head, she realized the strange radiance lay over the entirety of his vision. Kaosu was blind.

"Your eyes," Svnoyi whispered.

"Some sacrifices are worth making," he replied, setting a hand on top of hers. She recognized the callouses, still with his infinite gentleness, and sobbed again, finally drawing close and pressing her face against his chest.


	16. Chapter 16: Hope

Grave silence had fallen on the warriors. Anubis closed his eyes, unable to bring himself to look again at the woman sitting quietly on her own across the clearing.

"In the face of immense suffering, Svnoyi, or Iris, as she now calls herself, still found hope," the Ancient explained, "the only virtue capable of balancing the Oblivion's emptiness. She has dedicated her life to the protection of the armor, and now that Talpa has returned, her task is even more perilous. You must keep her out of the city. Not only is she unable to risk using the armor, but the vigilance required to keep it under her control in the presence of the Nether Realm's evil is poisoning her." He turned his head over his shoulder as if motioning for them to look as well. Doing so, they found her immaculate posture had faltered, her shoulders withered, and her skin had lost a shade of color.

"How are we supposed to fight them if we can't go near them?" Ryo asked.

"It is not you who must stay away, Ryo of Wildfire," the monk noted. "But the six of you must work together on a strategy to defeat the Dynasty. You cannot win this battle alone. You _must_ learn to trust each other."

Kento looked to one side to Rowen, who diverted his eyes, then shot a glare to Sage before he pushed past him and passed the Ancient One. He was careful as he approached Iris, slowly kneeling to her.

"Hey," he said softly, meeting her gaze as she looked up.

"Hey," Iris sighed.

"You know I always trusted you." After a quiet moment, the woman laughed a bit to herself.

"I know," she nodded, "you're a good friend, Kento."

A smile cracked across his face, but it was brief as his gaze shifted to settle on her injury. The punctures were not numerous, but their perimeters had a deep, purplish-black coloring, and the surrounding flesh was flared red.

"That looks really bad," he said, his brows furrowed in concern.

"I think it looks worse than it is," Iris assured him, "but I need to get home to dress it. I don't have supplies here."

"Well, you're in luck." Kento looked over to his comrades, "from the sounds of it, we all gotta blow this joint. Something about the Dynasty—"

"Its influence weakens me." She was several steps ahead of him. "Even unarmed, I can feel it." Her gaze moved over his shoulder to the men and came to rest on Anubis, now looking up at the monk with his hands rested on his knees. "What about him?" Kento's eyes followed hers and he frowned.

"Wish I could tell you."

"Warriors, I ask that you let us have a word alone," the Ancient said, nodding to Anubis. "Perhaps now is the time to speak with your new ally about how you plan to move forward."

Ryo nodded hesitantly and motioned to Cye, Sage, and Rowen. Together, they moved past the monk and walked to join Kento. Iris pushed up to her feet as they approached, lifting her chin to meet their gaze fiercely.

"So what's the plan?" Ryo looked directly at the woman for input.

"I'm going home," she said firmly.

"The Ancient said we need to stick together," Cye said, "so if you go, then we go." It was a response she seemed less than pleased with, her jaw clenching and her eyes moving through them to the Ancient One.

"Hey," Sage said finally, drawing her attention back to him. "I misjudged you. I'm sorry for that." She watched him intently for a moment, unflinching.

"I've forgiven worse things," she said after a tense beat, offering her hand to the man. He took it gently and bowed his head to her.

"It appears you have a choice to make, Anubis," the Ancient One remarked.

"I will not return to the Dynasty," the Warlord responded. "Nothing but death awaits me there."

"Then it is up to you to forge your path." The monk lowered his head. "There are many trials ahead of you, should you make this journey. With seven of the ten armors now separated from him, Talpa's tactics will become more desperate and destructive. You must find peace in your armor. Be vigilant, for he will seek to reclaim it at any cost."

"Ancient One." Anubis shifted up to one knee, "there is one last question I must ask."

"Redemption." The Ancient knew he was correct as the man bowed his head sorrowfully. "Whether or not you accept that task is your decision, and yours alone. Look into your heart, Anubis, and you will find the answer you seek."

Anubis opened his eyes and looked up to find himself alone. The monk had vanished without a sound, leaving only a cold wind in his wake. His gaze now focused across the field to the Ronin Warriors and he rose to his feet slowly.

Iris watched directly over Ryo's shoulder as the Warlord approached, her face stern. It took him a few seconds to compose himself and meet her gaze, his hands hanging uneasily at his sides.

"You're not going back, are you?" She still had such a way about her, her words firm and wise and unquestioning. He realized she already knew the answer; she simply wanted to hear him say it.

"No," Anubis responded.

The rough humming of a motor and grinding gravel intercut their exchange. The little beige van emerged from the horizon and rolled up beside them, and Mia rolled her window down.

"I was starting to worry we wouldn't be able to find you!" she exclaimed to the men. "So what's our plan?"

"We're going back to Muhimura," Ryo announced.

"Come on." Iris spoke to no one specific as she turned on her heels slowly and staggered to the van, orchestrating clear effort to mask her limp. As she moved, Mia looked past her to Anubis and her hair stood on end.

"Is—is he coming?" Mia murmured to the woman. Seeing the look Iris offered in response, she called back over her shoulder to Yuli, "maybe you should stay in the back this time, and let Iris take the front seat for this trip." Her statement was cheerful as she tried not to call attention to the other woman's displeasure.

"It's okay," Iris said, "I'll take the back."

"Are you sure?" Mia had lowered her voice now.

"I'm sure. I think I'm actually going to lie down." As she approached the van and took hold of the side door handle, she lowered her voice so that only Mia could hear, "thank you, though."

Yuli helped to slide the van door open before climbing over the center console into the front passenger seat. As Iris stepped over the threshold into the van, she looked back at the men still unmoving, watching her closely. She managed an annoyed half-shrug.

"Are you coming?" she quipped. The statement sparked all six into motion.

The five warriors disarmed, their armors disappearing to leave only their undergear behind. As Iris crept to the back of the van, Kento was first in behind her, followed by Cye, Sage, Rowen and Ryo. Anubis hesitated as he approached the vehicle, his heart racing. Mia shot him a furtive glance before looking back at Ryo.

"Last call," Ryo said, his hand grasping the door frame, "better decide quick. Once you get in this van, you're stuck with us until we get away from Toyama."

The Warlord took a resolving breath, then quietly disarmed. Ryo noted the dark colorway of his underarmor, deep blue-grey with a steel blue chest plate in the same duotone scheme as Iris's. He stepped up into the van, and as he did so, a soft growling greeted him. Anubis froze in place as he stared down the massive brown eyes of a beast.

"White Blaze," Ryo said sternly, "easy, boy." The tiger almost seemed skeptical for a moment, but finally he backed up and turned in place to slink to the back of the van. Ryo drew the door shut and took a seat in one of the chairs.

"Where should I—?" Anubis looked around to find the seats occupied, but as his eyes adjusted he saw Iris had taken a seat on the floor, and he followed suit. White Blaze circled the woman to lay down and coiled his massive body around her for support.

"You silly cat," she chuckled, leaning back into his side gently before completely snuggling down into him, hand still clutching her makeshift wound dressing against her ribs. A rumbling chuffing sound quivered on the air as he closed his eyes, content in his companion's comfort.

"Don't even say it," Ryo warned, catching glimpse of the smirk that had found its way to Kento's face.

"Not my fault your tiger fancies the ghost lady," Kento jeered.

"Ghost lady?" Anubis's brows furrowed.

"Oh, uh," Hardrock looked back to Iris uncertainly.

"I've lived a very colorful life surrounded by death," she responded. She caught the mix of confusion and concern on the man's face, and for a moment, she saw the young soldier she knew centuries ago. She waved a hand dismissively, "you'll see."

"Are you sure you're going to be able to get through the woods in your shape?" Cye asked. "One of us could carry you."

"You all are worrying for nothing," Iris assured him, "it really isn't that bad." She took a breath that escaped in a long, soft sigh, "but I think I'm going to take a nap until we get there, if that's okay. It must be near sunrise, I'm exhausted." Sage frowned at the implication, well aware that her fatigue had very little to do with the time of morning.

"You do whatever you need to do," Kento said. She lifted her head from White Blaze's shoulder.

"You know you can wake me, if you need me."

"Sleep, Iris," Rowen added, "we got it from here."


	17. Chapter 17: Morning Light

The forest looked starkly different in the early morning light. Dark leaves speckled a sky painted in pink and gold; an orchestra of small birds had already begun their sunrise symphony. The air was still, a light chill lingering and silvery mist clinging to the trunks of the trees.

It was as they crossed the river, its calm waters brisk and soothing, that the warriors noticed Iris's demeanor had changed. Her skin had brightened again to its healthy bronze luster, and her step was spritely even as she nursed her injured side. She moved effortlessly through the landscape, unbothered by the water creeping up the fibers of her jeans, her boots saddled on her shoulder.

Anubis found himself lingering behind, gazing in awe of the woman. The morning sun glinted through the trees now, illuminating strands of gold running through her dark hair. Modern clothing left so much less to the imagination, denim hugging feminine, athletic curves he was finding more difficult to ignore as she continued walking ahead. He could feel his heart racing, and he diverted his eyes downward before attempting to focus elsewhere.

Rescue arrived just in time: a single, sweeping branch full of small purple blossoms caught his attention. He stopped in his tracks to examine it, eyes tracing up the elegant, swaying limb to the tree covered in silky blooms.

White Blaze casually bumped the Warlord's leg as he passed. Anubis shifted his gaze to the other men, all watching him closely now from just beyond the tree. It took several moments, but once he recognized the stone monuments they were standing among, a chill ran down his arms.

"A graveyard?" It was the first sound he had made since stepping foot in the caravan. Iris was far ahead now, on the steps of a quaint, thatched house, and she turned just enough to look at him.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of dead people," came her dry reply. At a loss for words, he simply shook his head a bit in response. She turned back toward the house and called over her shoulder, "I don't know about the rest of you, but a stale bag of chips was definitely not my idea of food. Who wants to help with breakfast?"

"Me!" Yuli cheered, skipping up the steps to join at her side.

"I would be happy to help," Cye chimed in, following close on the boy's heels. Iris smiled and opened the door, motioning everyone inside. Anubis approached slowly and waited awkwardly behind the rest of the men. Mia offered him a small, empathetic smile and waved him in before following herself.

Iris led the way to the kitchen with Yuli and Cye in tow. In a single sweep, she opened several cabinets to remove various cooking pots and set them on the stove, which she was swift to light the kindling for.

"I have no idea what I even have in here to make," she admitted, "have to go to the market tomorrow." As she rifled through shelves, she laid out ingredients: rice, kombu, beans, sweet potato. "There should be some eggs in the icebox, and maybe some fish."

Cye reached for the box, making the effort to hide his hesitance. Drawing it open, he was relieved to find the fish in question was already a cut, headless flank, and he leaned in to collect it along with a box of remaining eggs. He straightened up to find Iris reaching in another cabinet from which she withdrew a small, dark jar.

Torrent watched out of the corner of his eye as she opened the jar, filled with a deep, plum-colored jam-like substance. He quietly got to work prepping the pots and food for cooking, and noticed a sudden, pungent smell apparently emanating from the jar.

"We're not going to eat that, are we?" Yuli asked, a tinge of disgust evident in his voice. She laughed and set it on the counter away from the produce.

"No, this is not food," she replied, passing by the boy to reach for another shelf. She removed a roll of gauze and in the same movement took a metal bowl from a shelf below it. She was amazingly adept with a single free hand, taking two canisters from the counter and unscrewing both. Scooping a white powder from one, she sprinkled it in the bowl; the second canister, it appeared, was full of fresh water, which she added to dramatic effect as it bubbled and frothed.

Cye watched curiously over his shoulder now as he seared the fish. Iris dipped a small, wadded bit of cloth in the frothing liquid and gently pressed it against her wounds. Her skin had bruised around the punctures, and she was tender with her touch as she cleaned away the blood. Finally, she laid the cloth down and reached into the jam jar to scoop some of the reddish-purple jelly out. Taking a deep breath, she pressed the substance against and into the wounds. Yuli crunched his eyes shut.

"That looks painful." She could almost hear the grimace in Cye's voice.

"Packing hurts a bit, yeah," she confirmed, "but only for a second." Satisfied, she scrubbed her fingers off in the bowl of froth and reached for the gauze.

"So that's—"

"An ancestral medicine," Iris interjected. She secured the bandage around her ribs firmly. "I still use a lot of it. Not that I'm opposed to modern medicine, I keep plenty of that, too." She rinsed her hands with fresh water before joining him to help. "I just use whatever works best."

Anubis stepped closer to inspect the illuminated lettering on the wall before him. He vaguely recognized the mural, or at least its purpose as a sky map; the writing, however, was in a language he did not understand. As his eyes drifted over the inky blues and purples, his mind wandered to a distant time and place.

 _I would conquer the heavens themselves for you_.

 _Stand beneath them with me_. _That is enough_.

He closed his eyes and clenched his fist as a phantom sensation brushed over it.

"You plan on eating with the rest of us?" The voice startled him back into reality and he turned to see Iris standing in the doorway watching him.

"I would not want to impose," he replied softly, embarrassed as he realized he had meandered through her home without permission.

"You're a guest in my house. Don't be rude." She was firm in her statement and she turned back around to return to the kitchen. He frowned a bit and quietly followed.

Finding the others had already seated themselves at the table, the Warlord joined them, sitting awkwardly at the end where Mia and Yuli had taken their places. The child looked up uncomfortably before diverting his eyes away.

"Welp, this is gonna be a good time," Kento remarked, casting a smirk at Anubis.

"Come on now," Mia said gently, "we should at least give him a chance."

"Yeah, now who's the suspicious one?" Rowen teased.

"Hey, at least I've got a good reason," Hardrock fired back. "You just thought the gravekeeper thing was creepy. A week ago, this guy would have hung us with our own insides."

" _Kento_ ," Sage hissed.

"Come on, man, there's a kid at the table," Ryo snipped.

"Keep it up, guys," Iris warned as she joined them, carrying a tray stacked with bowls. Cye followed behind with his own set of dishes.

"They started it," Kento muttered.

"I will dump this on your head, don't test me." She placed bowls of soup and cooked beans in front of each seat as she moved around the table, Torrent circling around beside her with fish, rice, and eggs. "Sorry, slim pickings until I get to town tomorrow."

"You should let us handle that for you," Sage offered. "Give yourself a rest and let that wound heal."

"I told you, you're worried for nothing," she countered as she took her seat, "it really wasn't as bad as it looked."

"Hey, you're missing a bowl," Yuli pointed to the array of dishes in front of Anubis. "Did we run out? I can share mine."

"He doesn't like beans."

It was a simple statement, and yet somehow, it brought on a heavy silence. The Warlord looked up from his plate and across the table to Iris, who seemed oblivious to the impact her words had made. Her guests, however, were not: in his peripheral vision, he could see their eyes on him.

"So what do we do from here?" Ryo was swift to redirect the conversation as he noticed Anubis's discomfort. He offered a small, acknowledging nod as he caught glimpse of the man's grateful expression.

"I have plenty to do," Iris replied. "I still have a life to live outside of this armor business. Breakfast, dishes, laundry, then I'll probably sleep until about an hour before sundown, do some weeding, supper, read, tea, and then nightfall."

"We'll get the dishes," Rowen insisted.

"Alright." She nodded a bit, "so I'll head to the river to wash after breakfast."

"May I go with you?"

Her dark eyes moved across the table to focus on Anubis. She was silent as she gazed at him, her expression unreadable.

"It would probably be a good idea," Sage offered, "you never know who might show up. I'm sure Talpa knows where we are now."

"Talpa is aware of this place," Anubis confirmed. "It is how he knew you were going to Aokigahara."

"Wolves." It was as simply stated as it had been the first time she said it. Ryo looked down the table to Iris, whose eyes met his, and suddenly he realized there was a deeper meaning to her words. _They weren't ordinary wolves_. She had known all along.

"I know I'd feel a lot better if someone went with you," Cye said.

"Fine." Her agreement was curt. She picked up her soup bowl to drink from it, as if declining any further discussion.


	18. Chapter 18: Entre Nous

"You know I think you were entirely unnecessary, right?"

Iris was several steps ahead, making no effort to speak over her shoulder to him. Anubis watched her quietly and nodded to himself.

"I do."

"And that I know you asked when you did on purpose," she turned her head a bit to direct her words to him now, "because you knew I wouldn't fight with you in front of those boys."

A soft smirk crossed his lips now. He had also successfully convinced her to allow him to carry the bin of clothing, as he was currently doing, in much the same way. She had put up little fight, well aware she was outnumbered by the Ronins' concern. They were good men, after all; had she not allowed the Warlord's assistance, they would have insisted on theirs.

"Was my strategy that transparent?"

"Incredibly."

"My apologies." He saw her unimpressed eye roll and his smirk perked.

The woman stopped at the riverbank, placing the glass canister she had been carrying in the grass. She walked over to one of the trees nestled along the river's edge and reached for the length of twine she had looped in her belt. Anubis lingered back as she tossed one end of the rope up and over a limb.

"You remembered." It took him a moment to find his voice, and the suddenness of his words drew furrowed brows from Iris.

"What?"

"That I do not like beans." She shot him a look now, equal parts incredulous and irritated, and continued her work to secure the twine to the tree branch.

"Yeah?" Walking along the river's edge, she stretched the twine across to a second tree.

"I cannot imagine you would want to remember anything about me," Anubis muttered, a hint of dejection in his voice that brought her pause.

"Anubis." There was a softness in her tone, tangible even in a single word, and he looked up to find her dark eyes settled on him. She had stopped her work, one hand resting on the branch overhead. Her face had a tenderness to it now, peeking through just underneath her discontent. "You were important to me. Of course I remember."

He watched her quietly, unsure how to respond. She let their eyes remain locked for another moment before reaching up to tie her clothesline around the tree branch.

"I remember a lot about you, actually," she admitted. "You were not a morning person. You enjoyed playing the flute, even though you were absolutely terrible at it." A small smile crept its way back to his face, and he chuckled a bit despite himself. "You liked lilacs."

The Warlord let his gaze wander as Iris reached up the tree trunk. She had changed into what she called "washing clothes," although he was not sure what earned them such a designation. A loosely-fitted black tank top flowed against her torso, pulling up with each stretch to reveal a slender waist, obvious even as it was secured in gauze. Dark denim shorts hugged curvy hips, and her sun-kissed legs were long, fit, and seemingly impossible to take his eyes off.

"You sure have been staring at me an awful lot."

His heart pounded loudly in his ears, which felt suddenly hot.

"Your clothing is much different than I remember," Anubis managed, immediately embarrassed and diverting his eyes to the river.

Iris finally planted her feet firmly back on the ground, her clothesline secured. She turned to find the man's face flushed, his gaze nervously settled on the water, and she squinted her eyes a bit at him. "Are you checking me out?"

"I do not know what that means," he confessed.

"That's _exactly_ what you're doing."

"I am sorry." He managed to pull his eyes back to meet hers, shame evident in his piercing gaze. She stared at him for several seconds before laughing a bit and shaking her head.

"It's fine," she said, closing the distance between them and reaching to take the clothing bin from him. "You are definitely still human." She carried the bin to the river and knelt into the grass, opening the glass canister and sprinkling the powdery contents over the clothes. Lifting the bin, she dipped it down into the running stream to let it fill with water before resting it in the grass again. Bronze hands then promptly got to work, plunging into the water to massage the swirling piles of fabric within.

"Why are you out here?" Anubis took a few steps closer, approaching the river bank but maintaining several feet between them.

"Washing?" Iris raised a brow and looked over her shoulder at him.

"No, I mean _here_ ," he repeated, "in Muhimura. You seem to function well in modern society." He tilted his head a bit as he noticed a soft, longing smile cross her face, and her hands briefly halted in their work.

"This was the first place I lived after Kaosu healed me," she replied. "They welcomed me with open hearts, even as a foreigner, even though I had nothing to offer." Her eyes drifted out along the stream. "It was a very small village. Everyone filled at least two jobs, it was the only way to get everything done. I became their healer and their undertaker."

"Undertaker? That must have been hard for you."

"Not at all." Golden-flecked eyes moved over to him. "Life and death are two sides of the same coin. Caring for both isn't that much of a stretch." He took a long, deep breath as he countered the intense look he was receiving.

"What happened?" She broke their gaze and returned to agitating her clothing.

"The same thing that always happened," she said simply, drawing out a garment and moving to the flowing water. She gripped it by two corners and submerged it in the current, allowing the stream to unfurl the fabric. "Decades passed, and they realized their children had grey hair, when I hadn't aged a day. They ran me out of town." She got to her feet with the dripping fabric and passed him to approach the clothesline. "It was a bit kinder to me than Naoki was, anyway."

Anubis closed his eyes. There was a sharp, painful pang in his chest.

"I trusted him," the Warlord confessed, "to take care of you, and protect you in my absence. I never thought he would turn on you."

"You can't really blame him." Iris reached up to hang the garment over the twine. "I don't." Somehow, this admission cut him deeply. She lingered on that thought briefly before she continued, "Muhimura was abandoned sometime in the early part of this century, and there were plans to demolish whatever remained and exhume the graveyard. For some reason, that really bothered me." Returning to her clothes bin, she collected a pair of jeans and immersed them in the stream. "So I bought it. The land, the buildings, and everything on and in them. That was about fifty years ago now."

"And you have lived out here all that time?"

"Every day." She wrung the denim and submerged it again to run the fabric clean. "There's a market in town about an hour from here, no one sees me often enough to find anything strange about me. Even if they did, the ghost stories would keep them away."

"I would never have imagined you would want to be so alone," he conceded.

"Yeah, well, I never would have imagined you would leave me so alone." He caught the trace of bitterness that had crept back into her voice, subtle as it was. "So I guess we're even."

"You are right to be angry with me." His words brought her pause. He watched her carefully as she sat back on her heels, wet jeans crumpled against her thighs. "My actions caused you great suffering."

A deafening silence followed him. Unsure of speaking again, he clenched his jaw to maintain control.

"I'm not angry." Iris took a long, resolving breath, making no move to look at him. "I was never _angry_. I was _heartbroken_. I was _hurt_." Her voice quivered. Finally, she lifted her head and turned to look up at him. There was rawness in her face that threatened to crush him, his chest suddenly heavy. "Why did you leave me?"

"Please understand." Anubis's voice softened and he stepped closer, kneeling to one knee at her side and resting his forearm on his thigh. "Talpa promised greatness that I could never achieve in this world. I thought I was doing what was best for us. I was nothing but a soldier from a small merchant village. You deserved so much more than I could give you."

"I didn't _care_ ," Iris objected. "I didn't want wealth, or land, or power. I wanted _you_." As she fixed her gaze on his smoldering green eyes, her own burned and brimmed with tears. "I was never enough for you, and for that I'm sorry. But you were enough for me."

He watched as her lashes fluttered, finally forcing her tears to roll down her cheeks. The heaviness in his chest gave way to something deeper, more painful, as if each fresh drop broke off a piece of his heart. Slowly, he reached forward, the lightest trace of his fingertips brushing over the top of her hand. She released the denim she had been so desperately clutching, and her breath escaped in a quavering whimper.

Anubis reached out to take Iris into his arms and draw her body tenderly against his. His grasp encircled her, and he closed his eyes as she brought her head to rest against his chest, trembling in his embrace.


	19. Chapter 19: Shadow of Doubt

Blue flames shivered in the dimness. There was an uneasy chill in the air, and somewhere, the low hum of repetitive chanting lingered.

"I cannot afford any more of this foolishness!" Talpa's voice roared, his eyes flaring red. "From _any of you_!"

"Master Talpa," came Dais's quiet plea.

" _SILENCE_!" The candle flames quivered as if trembling in fear. The Warlord of Illusion clenched his eye shut and bowed his head, biting his tongue to obey. "Not only has Anubis betrayed me, but Cale's recklessness nearly cost me _his_ armor as well!"

The words arrested Dais's thoughts. _His armor_?

"Master," he managed, "Cale barely escaped with his life." His words were spoken carefully and slowly.

"Precisely," Talpa snarled. "I warned each of you about facing off against the Oblivion armor alone. That bullheaded stunt could have cost me dearly."

"And Anubis?" Sekhmet hissed.

"He was weak. That monk easily turned him against the Dynasty. I can do without him," the emperor growled, "but I must have his armor. I expect no cost to be spared in returning it to me. Kill him if you must."

"What about the woman?" Dais's voice remained soft and he gazed aimlessly at the floor to avoid the emperor's glaring, ghostly eyes.

"Kill her as well," he growled, "she is of no use to me." When the man did not respond, his eyes flashed. "Is that a problem for you, Dais?"

"No, Master," he replied, pressing his fist to his chest and bowing at the waist. The candles flickered, and Talpa's ethereal form dissipated into the shadows.

Sekhmet's eyes lingered on his comrade. The white-haired man straightened himself and turned wordlessly to leave the throne room, and he followed closely on his heels.

"Your silence is concerning," the Warlord of Venom remarked as he followed Dais down the dark, hollow corridor.

"Is it?"

"I sense your hesitance," he persisted. Dais halted in his steps, clenching his jaw in thought.

"Is it not disconcerting to you," he said, "that Master Talpa's greatest concern is the armor Cale is wearing, and not the fate of Cale himself?"

"What are you saying?" Sekhmet's eyes narrowed.

"He has intervened in our battles with this—Iris." He nearly spit the name. "Prevented and deterred us from facing off against her, because the very touch of her armor can bring death." He turned to peer over his shoulder at the man, "but now that it is death that Cale faces, it appears to me that is not what our emperor is concerned with."

"Cale brought this on himself," Sekhmet hissed, "Master Talpa cannot squander his attention to his imprudence."

"And now he would ask that we murder Anubis, for what?" Dais had turned to face the green-haired Warlord now.

"Anubis is a traitor," he declared, "death is a more merciful sentence than he deserves."

Dais watched his comrade carefully. His words made logical sense; the Warlord of Cruelty was, indeed, a traitor. Worse still, he had turned against his master because of a woman. _How weak and pathetically human_. And Cale was a brash, mule-headed brute. He had taken such offense to his defeats that he ignored all caution, blinded by rage and revenge and now suffering as a result.

The echo of the Nether Spirits chanting still hung vaguely in the air. Perhaps death was not truly as imminent for the Warlord as it had seemed. It would explain the emperor's lack of concern, confident in the abilities of his spirits to revive the man. Dais allowed Talpa's words to repeat in his mind. _Nearly_. _Could have_. Cale would survive, and the emperor knew this. _Yes_ , _that must be it_.

"Perhaps you are right," Dais agreed. "And perhaps it does not have to be so merciful."


	20. Chapter 20: Stars Look Down

"Hey, is Iris back yet?"

Rowen leaned in, peering around to find the woman absent. He had a book in one hand, its spine worn and frayed; whether this was indicative of age or usage was indiscernible at a glance.

"Not yet," Sage replied, glancing out the window to make note of the sky. The sun was setting, and the heavens were rapidly darkening.

"Man, that woman doesn't slow down," Kento remarked. "Seriously, has she even sat down since we got back here? Gardening, washing, cooking for an army—"

"I told you, she's something else," Ryo mused.

"Maybe she's trying to keep her mind busy," Sage noted.

"Keep it off the pain?" Cye pondered aloud.

"Something like that."

Anubis caught the tone of the man's words and glanced his direction to find a steely violet eye locked on him. As aloof as he appeared, with arms crossed and a sweeping lock of blond hair concealing one eye, Sage's gaze was icy and intimidating, and his intent was clear.

"I am aware of the general unease my presence has caused," the Warlord confessed, a small frown tugging at his lips.

"Understatement of the century," Kento quipped.

"She is capable of telling me to leave whenever she wishes."

"Yeah, right, you and I both know she's too nice for that." Hardrock placed both hands on the table in front of him as if preparing to push up from it. "She's never gonna tell you to get lost, even though she should."

"Easy," Rowen warned.

"Nah, man, guy's a Warlord. He can handle the truth, and I'm not gonna be gentle about it."

"He is right," Anubis conceded, "there is no need to—"

"Stop instigating." The stern voice startled the men, and all looked up to find Iris in the doorway, a large paper bag hoisted on her hip and an unimpressed look directed at Kento. Cye got to his feet and shuffled quietly to her side.

"I'm not doing anything!" Hardrock defended.

"Kento, I don't even need context to know you're full of it."

"Can I put these away for you?" Cye offered, opening his arms to her.

"Oh, sure, thank you." She shifted the bag into his grasp gratefully. As he stepped back, however, she reached forward into the bag to withdraw a large, thin box. Walking across the room to Anubis, she offered it to him. "This is for you."

The Warlord furrowed his brows and took it carefully. Drawing it open, he found folds of dark blue silk. He let the box rest in his lap and reached in to pick up the folds, and as he did so, they opened enough to reveal a folded collar and white tabi socks tucked along the box's side.

"Now stop walking around on my hardwood floors in armored feet," Iris quipped. Anubis's wide eyes moved up to her and he nodded sheepishly.

"Yes, of course," he managed. Satisfied, she turned toward the door.

"Wait, Iris," Rowen hurried to her side, the worn tome clutched in his outstretched arm, "where did you get this book?" She perked a brow and turned her head to see what volume he was carrying and smirked a bit.

"Surely you're not asking a 400-something-year-old woman where she got an antique astronomy text," she mused.

"This is a first edition! By _Kepler_!" he defended.

"Yes, I bought it when it was published." Iris's tone betrayed her amusement at Strata's disbelief. "What kind of uneducated swine do you think I am?" She laughed at the flustered, flushed expression she received in return, and patted the Ronin's elbow reassuringly as he stammered out a confused apology. "I'm kidding. I'm sure I have a _lot_ of books in there you'll find jarring."

"Can I—I mean," Rowen found his words jumbling up over themselves as his mind moved much faster than his mouth.

"Books were made to be read," Iris nodded. "Just be careful, some of them are really fragile." She leaned over to pick up the lantern seated near the door.

"Where are you going _now_?" Kento inquired.

"Just out in the graveyard." She pointed out the open door. The vivid colors of the sunset had dissipated, giving way to an inky, moonless sky. "Night fall."

"You have to be the only person I've ever met who thinks sitting out in a cemetery in the dark is a good time."

"Don't wait up," she said, stepping out into the darkness.

Anubis watched after her for a long moment before getting to his feet, carrying the small garment box into the bedroom to change. Laying its contents out, he found a simple dark blue kimono, striped obi, and charcoal grey hakama pants. He considered the garment choice briefly; she could have chosen modern, Western clothing such as her own and that of the Ronins, but it seemed this selection was intentional, and great care had been taken to make sure the outfit was complete.

It was a strange, almost foreign sensation, he realized, wearing something other than his armor. He inspected himself in the mirror before walking back to the living area to join the Ronins, all gathered in the main room near the open front door.

"Hey, there really is a human under that armor," Rowen joked. Anubis smiled a bit and, noticing the men were still alone, he moved to the doorway to peer out into the cemetery. The land was pitch black, with only faint silhouettes of tombstones jutting out into the darkness as his eyes adjusted. It was haunting and still, and concerningly, Iris appeared to be nowhere in sight.

"She always does this?" he inquired.

"Seems so," Cye replied, lingering in the kitchen doorway.

"She's scouting," Ryo stated. The Warlord turned his head enough to look over his shoulder to Wildfire, finding the man's intense gaze burning into him.

"She knows Cale has been here," he agreed, frowning.

"How did Talpa find her after all this time?" Cye followed his eyes out into the graveyard's darkness.

"You led him straight to her." Torrent furrowed his brows in response, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe uneasily. "But perhaps it was necessary." It was all Anubis said before stepping out into the night.

As he distanced himself from the house, his eyes started to adjust; the light emanating from the dwelling was faint, but it was enough to discern vague silhouettes in the dark. The cemetery was certainly more chilling in the dimness: its stillness was unnerving, the branches of the trees appeared gnarled and wicked, and the trails weaved confusingly among graves that seemed to have no rhyme or reason to their placement. His steps were cautious, but clumsy all the same as he could have sworn he somehow tripped over the same twisting tree root three times.

Finally, he saw her. Iris sat among a cluster of tall, slender monuments, barely illuminated by the small flame of her lantern on the ground beside her. Her head was tilted toward the sky, and through the darkness he could see she had taken her hair down from its braid, dark waves pouring down her back to pool around her. His heart skipped a beat.

"You still look at the stars," he said.

"You still don't."

"The sky in the Nether Realm is much different than that of Earth." He stepped closer, following her eyes upward in contemplation.

"Is it?"

"Perpetual dusk. Golden, hazy." He looked back down to her. "May I sit with you?"

"Sure," she said after a moment of thought. She watched him take a seat close to her side. "Is this the first time you've been out of that armor since you left the mortal world?" He frowned a bit and looked at her quietly, his gaze confirming her suspicion. "I'm sure this is a little more comfortable."

"Yes, thank you," he said softly, "you have been much kinder than I deserve."

"Almost like old times." Iris let a ghost of a smile flick across her face as she looked the man over. "You cut your hair."

"You noticed."

"Hard not to, you had quite a mane," she mused. "Why'd you cut it? Needed a change after a bad break-up?"

"It did not fit in my helmet."

Iris snorted a bit at herself. "That's a good reason. Much better than my suggestion."

"It is going to take some time to learn these modern expressions," Anubis confessed. "What is a bad break-up?"

"It's kind of what happened to us," Iris replied hesitantly, "although it usually doesn't end with anyone's eyes gouged out." She immediately regretted the words and uncomfortably tried to reconcile the statement, "it's like divorce for unmarried people. Sometimes turns kind of ugly. Not _that_ ugly." She was almost audibly wincing now, and she pursed her lips, clearly unimpressed with her own rambling. Anubis watched her face with a tinge of amusement.

"You are still a bit awkward."

"Yeah, thanks," she managed. "That'll happen when you're distant from humans for decades."

"It is a shame that you are out here alone." The Warlord gazed at her through the darkness now, his expression softening. "You do well with others. You were always loved. Respected. The villagers who brought me to you when I was injured, they spoke very highly of you. It was very different from the respect they showed me."

"That's because you weren't respected," Iris countered, "you were feared."

"Yes," he agreed, his eyes shifting away into the dusk, "I am sure you are right. And in my foolishness, I believed it was the same thing." He let the silence settle around them as he contemplated her words. Her wisdom had always exceeded his own, and it seemed centuries had only widened the gap.

She chewed at the inside of her lip a bit, shifting her gaze skyward once more. "There is one good thing about living out here. Very little light pollution. Too many buildings in the city, the light drowns out the stars."

"Yes, the shadow sky was always your favorite," he noted.

"The _what_?"

"That—that was what you called it," he managed sheepishly, "when the moon was dark."

Iris moved her gaze back to the Warlord. Their eyes met through the dimness, and she saw that intense, tender expression that made her heart flutter. She had only seen it twice before, and seeing it now threatened to take her breath away.

"It is, isn't it?" she said softly. Clearing her throat, she corrected, "new moon. That's what it's called now." She paused in thought.

"I also remember the dying stars," he affirmed.

"Meteor showers," she stated. "They even have names now. Orionids. Perseids. The Quarantids are in January, we watched them together."

"The ones that look like bright fireballs." She saw him nodding to himself.

"I can't believe you remember all this."

"I am surprised myself," Anubis confessed. "In the Dynasty, everything is taken from you. Your will, your memories, everything you cared about outside of conquest." He shook his head a bit. "These memories, they rushed back the moment I saw you in the city." His voice darkened, "you were burdened with the memory of me every day for hundreds of years. But I remembered nothing of you until that moment."

He watched as she turned her head back to the sky. Even in the darkness, he could see the faint sparkle of tears, brimming her eyes like small clusters of stars. He closed his eyes briefly, his heart aching. After all this time, her sadness still wounded him.

"I know my presence is not easy for you," Anubis said, his voice laced with tenderness.

"I don't know," Iris managed, "I think I'm handling it pretty well, don't you?"

"I will not stay against your wishes. All you must do is ask, and I will leave."

His words brought on a lengthy silence. Her gaze remained fixed on the stars overhead, her jaw clenching and unclenching.

"Please don't." When she finally spoke again, her voice was strained. "I don't even know if I want you to stay. I just don't want you to leave again." She blinked, desperate to clear away her tears. She reached up to press the base of her thumb to her eyes, patting them away before they could fall. "That sounded even dumber than I thought it would."

"No," Anubis assured her, "I understand." Quietly, he offered his hand, opening his palm with the back of his fingers rested in the grass. She looked down to it and slowly reached out to let her palm rest in his. When he closed his fingers around the delicate little hand, she responded in kind, and allowed the stillness to linger.

Iris saw the stifled yawn the Warlord tried to withhold out of the corner of her eye, and a faint smile cracked on her face.

"I see you yawning over there," she mused. "You don't have to stay up on my account."

"I never could keep up with you," Anubis admitted. "You were a much greater night owl than me."

"Go." She nodded back toward the house. "Get some sleep." She looked back over her shoulder to find the windows and doors dark, "looks like those boys beat you to it, so try to be quiet."

Releasing that diminutive hand was truly the last thing he wanted to do. He ran his thumb softly over her knuckles, allowing himself only this brief moment before he let go and got to his feet. Looking down, he swallowed the lump in his throat to speak.

"Good night, Iris."

"Good night, Anubis." She offered him a soft smile, different from the others he had seen with its sincerity visible even in the blackness. He took a deep, resolving breath, returning the gesture before turning to walk back up the path to the house. She watched and waited until she heard the door slide shut, and then carefully laid down in the grass.

The passage of time was lost on her at night. It was not until the flame of her lantern withered that she considered it, and she turned her head to peer toward the horizon in search of twilight. A fleeting thought skipped through her mind and her brows furrowed as something glinted in the darkness.

 _Metal_.

The thought shot through her like an arrow and she bolted upright. A sudden chill slithered through the graves and the lantern extinguished, and all at once an icy sensation coiled tight around her throat.

She reached blindly into the dusk with one arm, the other swiftly grasping an unmistakable metal gauntlet. A faint, strangled sound crawled past her lips as she was effortlessly lifted from the ground. Her struggle was brief: a small stretch of her leg that informed her she was too high for her toes to touch the grass. Trembling fingers brushed over a large pauldron barely within her reach before she drew her extended hand back and wrapped it around the cold gauntlet to relieve some of the pressure squeezed around her throat.

There was a quiet, malicious chuckle, seemingly reverberating within itself. Looking down, she found a single, steely eye peering back through the darkness at her.

"Go ahead," the voice hissed, its echo haunting in the cemetery's silence. "Scream."

Iris took a long, calm breath, her jaw firmly clenched and eyes glaring back directly into that frightening gaze. She felt his fingers tighten against her skin and she bared her teeth to let out a low, firm growl.

"No."


	21. Chapter 21: Illusions

A bone-chilling cold splintered through him, rousing him from his dreams. Anubis opened his eyes to total darkness, and a sudden dread settled deep in his chest. He bolted upright in the dimness.

Faint growling snarled through the silence, and a shadow slinked across the floor; it took several moments, but the Warlord finally recognized the monster as White Blaze. He watched as the beast craned his head over the window sill, peering out into the cemetery grounds, and his growling grew more insistent. He turned to face his master, huddled on the floor beneath him, and forcefully bunted him in the side to wake him.

Ryo grunted and grumbled as he stirred, rolling to his side to turn his back to the tiger. His growl loudened, and he circled around him, aggressively shoving the man with his nose and pushing his head into his chest. A few frustrated huffs escaped the warrior and he set a palm on the tiger's snout.

"White Blaze," Ryo groaned groggily into the darkness, "what's gotten into you?"

"Something is wrong," Anubis declared.

"What?" Wildfire squinted, trying to force his eyes to adjust. He saw the shadowy form of the Warlord as he got to his feet and started toward the door. There was a light hum of commotion among his comrades as they awakened, blankets shifting and rustling in the dark.

"What's going on?" Cye was the first to sit up.

"Has Iris come inside?" Anubis lingered briefly in the doorway in anticipation of an answer.

"She doesn't come in until sunrise, man." Kento's reply was punctuated by a long, wide yawn.

It was not the answer the man had wanted. As his eyes adjusted, he grabbed the lantern waiting on the floor in the hallway and turned the key to light it. Jarred by his urgency, Ryo got to his feet and caught up on his heels.

"Hey, wait up!" Cye scrambled to stand and follow behind them, stumbling a bit in the dimness.

"What's happening?" Ryo found himself jogging to keep up with Anubis's long strides.

"I do not know," Anubis confessed, "but I feel a dark presence here."

He slid the front door open into the night. Twilight was rapidly approaching, the horizon bearing an eerie greenish glow, and the stars were fading. A chilling fog had settled into the grounds, obscuring all but a few tombstones that speared up through it. His chest tightened as he scanned the cemetery for movement and found nothing. Breath hitched, Anubis stepped down from the house into the damp soil and searched for the small flame of the woman's lantern.

"Her lamp is gone," he said, his voice hushed. Ryo exchanged a concerned glance with Cye and both shifted their gaze into the fog.

Kento stumbled into his friend's back as he joined them. Setting both hands on Torrent's shoulders to steady himself, he peered out into the graveyard, and after a few moments of silence, he shook his head a bit.

"She at least should have been back up by the house by now," he noted, his voice now reflecting true concern. Pushing past Cye, he called out into the fog, " _Iris_!"

There was a light fluttering of birds, disturbed by the man's call. Iris could see the smirk in the icy blue-grey eye focused on her.

"Your friends are looking for you," Dais taunted, "you should reassure them." He gazed up into her dark eyes, narrowed and glaring back in silence. His fingers tightened against her throat and he chuckled a bit at the breathless wheeze that escaped her. "Go on. Let Hardrock know you are here."

"I'm not playing by your rules, Warlord," Iris managed to growl.

"It is a shame you did not join us." His voice was low and deadly now. "You have quite a spirit. I look forward to crushing it."

"You're underestimating me."

"No." He gazed at her from beneath his brow, "that was Cale's mistake. He believes you are simply a woman. I know you are a warrior."

Anubis halted in his steps among the graves. He noticed the disturbance in the fog first, erratically shaped and unlike the surrounding sprouting tombstones. Against the greenish-grey twilight crawling over the horizon, he found a massive shadow rising from the mist, and then he saw it: the glint of cold metal, and waves of dark hair. His blood ran cold.

" _Iris_ ," Anubis breathed.

"He found us." Dais's mocking tone quipped at the woman still firmly in his grasp. She closed her eyes and struggled to relieve the pressure against her neck unsuccessfully. There was a malicious chuckle from the Warlord that echoed creepily through the tombs.

" _Release her_!" Anubis demanded. Heavy footsteps pounded against the soil as Dais took a few steps forward, his captive still hanging helplessly in his hand. Anubis clenched the lantern's handle as he heard the faint, strangled gasps Iris choked out with each jarring movement.

"You betrayed Master Talpa for this woman, Anubis," Dais remarked, "I see no more suitable punishment for your treachery than watching her die."

"If that is what this is about, then _unhand her_ and face me!" Anubis barked.

"You're afraid." The words were strained, but Iris managed to take a breath to speak. Her words brought the men pause and Dais's gaze shifted briefly to her.

"Of what? Anubis?" His statement was laced with amusement. "Your feeble little Ronins?"

"Of me."

"Absurd," he growled, "I do not fear you."

"You know what my armor is capable of," she insisted, her eyes focused on the Warlord with frightening calm. "You saw what I did to Cale, what can I do to you."

"Your mind games will not work on me. I know you are limited by your armor's power." He saw a flicker of uncertainty flash through her eyes and he smirked to himself. "Yes, in harming me, you risk killing them as well. And you won't take that chance."

There was a loud, metallic _bang_ , and Dais's head jerked back, his feet faltering. His fingers slipped from Iris's throat and the woman dropped to the ground; as she struggled to recover her balance, she stumbled back and tripped into something that caught her fall. Looking down, she found strong, unarmored arms securely wrapped around her, and instinctually clasped them.

"Now that's no way to treat a lady," Kento said disapprovingly. He straightened up in the fog with his staff clutched in his steel-clad hand. Ryo and Cye emerged from the mist behind him, suited up in their armors and weapons at the ready.

"Are you alright?" Anubis's voice was gentle as he spoke. Iris gazed up at him, trying to catch her breath against her racing heart.

"Yes," she breathed. Steadying herself, she pushed up to her feet and out of his grasp.

Dais climbed back to his feet, warily scanning his opponents. Drawing his nunchaku, he spun them rapidly, his sight zeroing in on Kento. A chuckle erupted through his helmet, reverberating through the graveyard with its own haunting echo.

"I was wondering when you would show up," he growled. "It would not be much of a fight without you." His attack was all at once swift and delayed: he was quick-footed in the fog, but he appeared to move in an erratic, slow pattern that was difficult to follow.

Confused, Kento struck out with his staff a moment too early, and a strangled cry escaped him as he was pummeled with the weapon. Cye lunged forward to intervene, closing his yari around the nunchaku chains and bringing an abrupt halt to the Warlord's assault. In swift response, Dais swung his mace across to strike Torrent in his side, left open by his attack stance. The warrior crumpled to his knees.

"Flare Up—" Ryo raised his swords overhead, but his words were cut short by a hit from the Warlord's morningstar as it rebounded from Cye.

In his concentration, Dais had not noticed the brilliant flashes of light, nor the sweeping, ghostly flames that collected underneath the mist. Iris glanced at Anubis from beneath the skeletal mask of her helmet, her heart skipping a beat as she glimpsed his eyes through his blood-red mask. His presence was still ominous and frightening, and for a moment she felt her stomach flutter.

"Dais, you don't have to do this," Anubis called out to the man, "our armors and the Ronin armors are the same. We were not meant to fight each other!"

"The Ronin armors belong to Master Talpa!" Dais countered.

"Talpa intends to reclaim _all_ of the armors!" Anubis barked. "Mine, yours, and those of the other Warlords as well! Don't you see, he has _used you_."

"You _lie_!" The Warlord spun his nunchaku, his eye narrowing, "once he has the Oblivion armor, he will conquer this world and we will serve at his side, just as you once did." With those words, he bolted toward Iris.

Iris jerked the snath of her scythe in front of her chest to block the attack, catching the chains of the nunchaku around the handle. The Warlord attempted a vicious tug-of-war, hitching the weapon back toward himself and pulling her with it. A faint _swoosh_ echoed through the graves and a weighted chain sliced through the mist, slinging violently to wrap around Dais's gauntlets. Anubis grabbed the chain and pulled it into tension to immobilize him.

Iris took the distraction to wrench her scythe and the nunchaku from the Warlord's hands, then backed away as the men struggled. Several steps back, she bumped into something, and snapped her head over her shoulder; Sage smirked down at her with steely violet eyes. Shifting her eyes across the twilight her gaze settled on Rowen.

"A little late, aren't you?" she quipped. Rowen offered a sheepish half-smile.

Dais withdrew his sickles from his back and lashed them in the direction of the woman and her comrades. A loud, metallic _screech_ hurled into the night air as Ryo's swords sliced through the weapons' snaths, snipping them like weeds.

"You rodents are _persistent_ ," the Warlord snarled, hurling his morningstar toward Wildfire. The warrior swiftly dodged it and the mace instead struck a tall, aging tombstone. With a _crack_ , the granite ruptured and split, and the monolith toppled into the soil.

"Alright, ugly!" Kento barked, recovered and back on his feet. "I've had enough of you for one night." He lunged for the man, staff raised, and drove it down as he approached him.

Anticipating a strike, Hardrock staggered and stumbled forward into emptiness. He stabbed the staff into the ground to stabilize himself and looked up and around to find Dais nowhere in sight.

"What the?"

A malicious cackling erupted from the trees.

"You are far too slow, Hardrock," Dais taunted. A few silvery threads of a spiderweb glinted in the twilight, exposing his position among the gnarled branches of a mossy oak. Rowen drew an arrow, nocking it and taking aim into the shadows.

"You're not as clever as you think you are, Dais!" he declared. "Arrow Shock Wave!"

The arrow whined through the air, landing its mark perfectly, but when the burst of brilliant blue light faded, the branches were empty, and the arrow had struck only a shadowy void. The warriors' eyes all darted around the dusk in search of the man, and soon his wicked laughter echoed through the graves mockingly. The sound seemed to emanate from every shadow now, and the Warlord's armor flashed in the dimness. He appeared to shift rapidly through the graveyard, standing among the graves, vanishing, and materializing in the trees before disappearing again. Iris stepped deeper into the yard, her scythe raised.

"You look stressed," Dais taunted, his frightening visage flickering across the cemetery. "Did your friends forget to warn you about me?"

"It's an illusion," Sage confirmed.

"One of them has to be real," Iris stated.

Halo followed in her footsteps, joining by her side with his sword raised and poised in line with his nose. He closed his eyes for a moment, listening carefully to the cycles of laughter; quickly realizing each direction was merely an echo from a single point of origin, he opened his eyes and turned the blade to catch Dais's reflection, his true form only feet away.

"He's _—_ "

Sage's words were cut short as the Warlord struck. There was a moment of deafening silence, split by the sound of cracking metal. Halo's mouth hung slightly agape, his violet eyes wide as he gazed forward into Dais's mask.

Iris was crouched between them just beneath Sage's arms, scythe blade jabbed up against Dais's chest. With a sickening _crack_ , Illusion's chest plate splintered, and a fissure crawled across its width. His body heaved, and a gross rattling gurgled past his lips. His steely-blue eye shifted from Sage's gaze down to Iris before his chin dropped to settle his sight on her scythe. He felt something warm trickle past his tongue, long before he recognized the metallic taste that accompanied it.

And then he saw them: dark crimson droplets spattering her blade, seeping from the plates of his mask.


	22. Chapter 22: Regrets

The cold crash of clattering metal reverberated through the gravestones as Dais slumped to his knees. He looked up at Iris briefly, wide-eyed in disbelief. The sun was rising now, and the warm light of morning illuminated the haunting skeletal mask obscuring her face, catching golden scintillation in her dark eyes. He saw something else in their depths: fear? But it was a fleeting thought; a painful breath tore through his chest, silencing his mind and punctuated by a grotesque rattling he found too terrifyingly familiar.

Iris stumbled back into Sage as the Warlord toppled forward into the soil with a _thud_. Her scythe vanished in a sweeping gust of ghostly blue flames that extinguished in her hands, and removing her helmet it, too, disappeared. An eerie hush fell as the warriors waited, searching for signs of life in Dais's motionless armor.

The warmth of the morning sun was suddenly overtaken by a blood-curdling chill. Small, flittering chirps of birds abruptly silenced, and a tangible feeling of dread settled in the stillness. A ghoulish green fog slithered through the graves now, snaking underneath the morning mist like vines. Ryo took a wary step back as the vapor crept around his ankles.

Like spidery hands, the fog crawled toward Dais and enveloped him, coiling around his limbs and winding up his torso. Sage wrapped his free arm around Iris's stomach, drawing her back against his body and crossing his sword in front of her defensively.

"What's happening?" Halo questioned.

"I don't know," Iris managed, sinking back against him.

Just as quickly as it materialized, the fog began to dissipate. As it vanished, the deep magenta metal of Dais's armor appeared to dissolve with it. Patches of pale skin emerged as the plates melted away.

"Talpa," Anubis stated, his voice tinged with alarm, "he is reclaiming the armor!"

The ghastly green vapor disappeared, taking with it every trace of the Warlord's armor. Dais, however, remained, his ivory skin bare and silver hair shrouding his face.

Iris pulled out of Sage's protective grasp and took a shaking step forward. Quietly, she removed her cloak, and opened it into the breeze before kneeling to the man and allowing it to settle over him. She reached forward, gingerly brushing her fingers across his cheek to move the silvery tendrils out of his face; but as she did so, her heart jumped.

There had been the slightest flutter from the man's lashes. Had she imagined it? Her brows furrowed and she leaned closer, tipping her head down to listen; her own breath halted in her chest as she waited and watched his face. Finally, there was a sound, quiet but unmistakable as he drew a short, warbling breath.

" _He's still breathing_ ," Iris declared, her voice shrill.

"The Nether Spirits could have healed him," Anubis noted darkly.

"Seems like Talpa had other plans," Rowen remarked. Iris reached across the Warlord's back, tenderly tucking the cloak under his arms.

"Help me bring him inside," she said as she turned Dais to his side, pulling the fabric over his shoulder to cover him.

" _What_?" Kento demanded.

"I can't carry him," she confessed.

"You're _serious_."

"Of course, I'm serious." She looked up at Hardrock, her brows furrowed. "We can't just leave him here."

Cye noisily elbowed Kento in the side before he could speak again. Anubis was the first to step closer, quietly removing his helmet before kneeling to Dais's side opposite Iris and reaching his hands down around his back. Her eyes met his, somber and dark, and she looked back down to the Warlord as she turned him once more to shift him into Anubis's arms. He stood with the man cradled close and waited for her to join him.

Iris got to her feet and led the path back to the house, Anubis carrying Dais right on her heels. As she stepped up the stairs, her armor dissipated. Ryo looked across his comrades' faces before following, and finally each joined him, Kento shaking his head in disbelief.

"Bring him here," Iris commanded, turning into a doorway from the hall. As Anubis approached, Mia emerged from the bedroom, and settling her gaze on him, her eyes widened.

"What is going _on_?" she asked slowly, a question that went unanswered as the Warlord turned into the room into which Iris had disappeared. Ryo was not far behind, disarming before he stepped into the house, and one by one Cye, Sage, Rowen, and finally Kento followed suit.

Trailing behind them as they trickled into the room, Mia covered her mouth. Iris had made swift work of laying out makeshift bedding, and was pulling her hair into a ponytail as Anubis knelt to lower Dais onto it.

She took a moment to examine the man's face, pale and dotted with a cold sweat. Brushing wavy silver locks away from his jaw, she found the blood that had seeped from his lips had stained his chin, neck, and hair. Breaths came slowly, arduously, with long pauses that seemed to threaten that the next would not come.

"I can't believe this," Kento grumbled, running his hand through his hair. "We almost beat the guy and now you're playing Florence Nightingale."

"He didn't deserve to die like that," Iris snapped, " _no one_ deserves to die like that."

"He's a _Warlord_!" he barked.

"He's a _human being_!" she fired back.

" _Barely_!"

"I am _not_ having this conversation with you," Iris declared, looking down to Dais and gently turning his head in search of injury.

"Yeah, that's because you know this is _crazy_ ," Hardrock contended. Iris rose up on her knees to face him.

"This is _my house_ ," she said, her voice loud and firm and her eyes burning. " _I_ decide who is welcome here. And if you don't _watch your mouth_ , you won't be."

"Whatever," he muttered, "I'm not staying anyway." With that, he turned away to storm out of the room.

"Kento!" Mia exclaimed.

"I've got him," Cye said, following out after his friend.

Iris moved her hands to the folds of the cloak. She was cautious as she opened it just over Dais's chest, parting the fabric down to his waist to expose his torso. The true horror of the damage was finally revealed: dark purplish-black bruising had already mottled the span of his chest, broken capillaries crawling over his flesh like spiderwebs. The skin was unbroken, but a distinct line of blood red traced across his breast where the spine of the scythe blade had touched him.

"What happened?" Mia asked, her fingers resting against her lips.

"Me," Iris managed weakly.

"The Oblivion's scythe is dangerous," Anubis interjected. "Talpa warned all of us that a touch from it could be certain death."

"So how did he survive?" Mia murmured.

"His armor. If he hadn't been wearing it, he wouldn't have."

"He still might not," Iris added. Her hands passed tenderly over Dais's wounded flesh, shaking her head grimly. She leaned down to rest her head lightly against his chest, listening to each rattling breath. "There's fluid on his lungs, it'll have to be drained." Straightening up, she reached carefully down his side and underneath to feel of his back. "And he might have abdominal hemorrhaging."

"What's going on?" It was a tiny, tired voice, and all heads but Iris turned to the doorway to find Yuli, rubbing sleepily at his face. Opening his eyes, his gaze settled on the Warlord and he was stirred into complete wakefulness, a confused sound gasping past his lips.

"Keep him out of here," Iris commanded, pointing at the doorway. Mia set her hands gently on the boy's shoulders.

"No, tell me what's going on!" Yuli protested, shrugging his shoulders away from her.

"We'll talk about it later, we need to let her work," Mia said gently, reaching her hand down to the boy. He watched her quietly for a moment before stubbornly setting his hand in hers and allowing himself to be led out of the room.

"There's a pan of water beside the stove," Iris looked at Anubis now, "can you heat that up and bring it to me?"

"Of course." He nodded and got to his feet, swiftly leaving to make his way to the kitchen.

"Stay with him." The words were directed to the three men remaining as she got to her feet and turned out of the room. Ryo exchanged an incredulous look with Sage, who lingered in the doorway with his arms crossed.

"I don't usually agree with Kento," Sage remarked, "but this may be a little crazy."

"She's right, though." Ryo frowned as he looked on the man, broken and bruised. "We couldn't just leave him to die like Talpa did." Rowen nodded a bit in silent agreement.

Iris returned with a small, thin case, wasting no time in taking her place beside Dais. Opening it revealed an array of basic medical and surgical supplies, and she withdrew a small arsenal from within: a small, brown glass bottle, a gauze pad, a long, thin plastic tube, gloves, and a short scalpel. She tugged the gloves on and opened the bottle, pressing the gauze against it and flipping it over to wet it.

"Wait, _you're_ going to drain that?" Rowen said, aghast. " _Here_?"

"You have a better idea?" Iris looked up at him seriously for a moment before reaching forward to press the gauze against Dais's ribcage.

Anubis withdrew the heated pan from the stove and extinguished the embers, carefully making his way back through the house. As he turned into the room, he found Iris alone with his former comrade; the nervous commotion of the Ronins' presence was gone with them, and she seemed to be quietly monitoring the Warlord's breathing.

"I see you have lost your audience," Anubis mused. Stepping closer, he saw what she was observing: a skinny tube protruding from Dais's chest. There was a pinkish-yellow fluid flowing through it into a small pan laying on the floor beside him.

"Yeah," Iris chuckled dryly, "when I started pulling out scalpels, they were out of here."

Anubis set the water pan on the floor beside her and returned to his position at Dais's opposite side. He looked so fragile, a condition in which he had never seen the man before, and he could not help feeling a tinge of sadness for him.

"What do you think?" Anubis queried, his voice quiet. She shook her head sullenly.

"He's in really bad shape," came her grim reply.

"You thought the same about me."

"And I was shocked when you lived." Her eyes met his briefly, raw and serious. She diverted her attention to the tube drawing from Dais's chest. "So did Kento leave?"

"Of course not." His tone reflected a small bite of amusement, "he is pacing around the graveyard ranting at Torrent."

"He doesn't think I did the right thing." Iris frowned a bit to herself.

"Give him time. He is impulsive and speaking out of anger. Let him calm down and I am sure he will see things your way."

"Do _you_ think I did the right thing?"

He found those dark eyes focused on him now, and searching their depths he realized there was much more to her question than it seemed. There was concern and regret, grief and guilt, and he knew Kento's temper was the least of her worries.

"I think you did what you believed was necessary." His reply was gentle. "You are a caretaker, as you have always been. And staying true to yourself in the face of the armor you bear," he tipped his head a bit, "perhaps that is more important than whether it was right or wrong."

Iris considered his words in silence, looking down to her hand resting against a battered canvas of purple and black.


	23. Chapter 23: Discarded

A soft warmth split through the icy cold lingering in every bone. He felt it first flow over his neck, trickling down into the base of his hair. He was compelled to rub at the sensation to stop it, but his arm was as heavy as lead and his compulsion went unheeded. Just as soon as the thought passed, something stroked across his flesh to ease the discomfort.

A sliver of light cut across his sight. His vision fluttered as he struggled to open his eye, and as he did he found it was blurry, distorted with tears. Blinking several times did little to clear it. A soft groan simpered past his lips, guttural and shivering. He felt something warm stroke over his forehead and into his hairline.

Pillowy softness pressed against his eye, clearing away the tears. This time when he opened it, his vision had sharpened, and he shifted his sight around to his surroundings. He recognized painted fusuma and a thatched ceiling, traditional décor with which he was familiar. His thoughts suddenly screeched to a halt: a golden, tanned hand reached across him, followed by that warm, trickling sensation rolling down his throat.

All at once, his faculties returned; his arms thrashed into the air to strike the hand and drive it away from his neck, and a hoarse growl crawled past his teeth.

" _Keep your hands off me_ ," Dais snarled. Just as suddenly as his alarm had piqued, excruciating pain tore through every fiber in his chest. He clenched his teeth to stifle the agonized groan that bubbled up in his throat, his body seizing.

"Okay." It was a simple, neutral reply. He peeled his eye open just enough to settle on the offender: Iris sat on her knees at his side, wet hands raised beside her head in compliance. Rage boiled under his skin.

"What are you doing to me," the Warlord growled. He could feel his heart pounding painfully in his ribs. Every beat initiated a surge of anguish, and the hope that his pulse would stop entirely and end them flashed through his thoughts.

"Just trying to clean you up a little bit," she confessed.

" _Why_."

"Because I _don't want your blood all over my linens_." Her reply was hostile, her patience waned, and Dais saw a flicker of anger dart over her face. "Either you let me clean you up, or you sleep on a bare floor. Those are your choices."

He had not noticed before, but as the words were spoken, he realized he was cocooned in a soft blanket. It had been folded down under his chest, and rolls of linens padded around him to cushion his body against the wood floor, swaddling him in secure warmth.

Considering her threat, Dais quietly let his head settle to one side, exposing the length of his neck.

"Is that permission?" Iris's tone was still harsh, and there was fire dancing in her eyes as her gaze met his for confirmation. Silence responded, but when he diverted his eye from her, she accepted the wordless reply. She returned to her previous work, filling a small cup with water from the pan at her side and carefully pouring it over his neck, her free hand caressing the skin to break up the dried blood.

Iris slid her hand underneath him, cradling the base of his skull. Dais tried to lift of his own strength, but as he did, his jaw gaped open and a tortured cry escaped him.

" _Easy_." Her voice was softer now, and he felt her grasp his head securely. "I've got you."

The Warlord let his body relax a bit. As she shifted his head in her hands, working to saturate his hair with water, he looked down to his chest. It was exposed, and he could see clearly now the frightening purple mottling spread from shoulder to shoulder.

Iris rolled a towel and placed it under his neck, bringing his head to rest again. Reaching behind her, she picked up a small glass jar and untwisted its lid, poking her fingers inside. An oozing, jammy substance came out with them, and she promptly rubbed it between her hands to generate a frothing lather. She leaned over him and took his head back into her hands, gently working the substance into his curling, wet locks.

Iris noticed his eye drifting shut and felt the muscles in his neck slack. A long, slow breath escaped him.

"You haven't been touched in a very long time, have you?" Her question seemed to bring a bit of rigidity back to his shoulders, "at least not by anyone not intending to harm you."

" _You_ intended to harm me," he countered, his icy blue-grey eye opening to meet her gaze.

"I didn't _intend_ to harm you," she rebutted, "you gave me no choice. Surely I don't have to explain to you why I couldn't let you attack Sage." Iris paused in her work briefly to look at him. Her eyes were grave, but there was something else muddled with her seriousness he could not quite place. "I didn't _want_ to hurt you. And I wouldn't have if I'd had any other option."

Dais looked down again at his bare, battered chest.

"Where is my armor?" His tone was less aggressive now, his energy spent.

"Hell if I know," Iris replied bluntly. "Probably in the Nether World."

"As I would be if you had not interfered," he muttered bitterly.

"Interfered?" She withdrew her hands from his hair and scrubbed them clean in the water pan. " _That's_ what you think happened?" The statement brought her pause, and she halted in her work to face him directly. "No, let me tell you how this _actually_ went down. Your master _took your armor_ from you and left you here to die naked and alone."

"If that is true," Dais growled, "it is only because he could not risk my armor falling to the likes of _you_."

"That may be," Iris conceded, her tone softening. "But it still doesn't explain why he couldn't bring your body back with it."

Her words struck through his thoughts and suddenly his chest felt hot and heavy, as if it had been poured full of molten lead.

 _Now that it is death that Cale faces, it appears to me that is not what our emperor is concerned with_.

Dais's breath hung in his chest and he clenched his jaw, watching the woman's face. There was sadness in her expression now, or empathy, perhaps, and his compulsion was to lash out in anger against it, but it was suffocated by a wave of dread.

 _Talpa intends to reclaim_ all _of the armors_. _He has used you_.

His gaze shifted away from Iris, unable to look at the knowing expression on her face. Quietly, apprehensively, she reached back out to him, one hand clutching the cup of water. She tipped it into his hair and carefully combed her fingers through it to rinse away the lather. The Warlord offered no resistance now, his fire apparently extinguished, his eye closed and breath tense.

"It doesn't have to be like this," she said quietly.

"I am tired of your voice," Dais snapped. There was anger in his tone, but she recognized another underneath it: shame. She pursed her lips into a thin line and nodded silently to herself.

Satisfied when the water running through his silvery locks ran clean, she twisted them to wring out the excess and swiftly swaddled them in a dry towel. She coiled the linen snugly around the crown of his head, then used another to pat his neck and shoulders dry. Finally, she removed the rolled towel from behind his head to replace it with a pillow into which his head quickly sank. Iris reached down to unfold the blanket from beneath his chest, tenderly covering him and tucking it beneath his arms and shoulders.

The room settled into silence. When he next opened his eye, he found the woman still seated beside him, having shifted off her knees to sit cross-legged. Her elbows were propped on her knees now, her hands clasped with interlocked fingers against which her chin was resting.

"Why are you still here?" he muttered.

"You might stop breathing," she confessed. The sincerity in her tone infuriated him, and a trace of rage streaked through him, but it was quickly dampened by exhaustion, and all he could do was release a heavy, furious sigh as his eye drifted shut.


	24. Chapter 24: Open Arms

"How's he doing?"

Ryo watched Iris's shoulders tense. She had spent much of the last two days fighting between a recalcitrant convalescent and Kento's near-insufferable stubbornness, and her tolerance had worn thin. Presently, she was sweeping the front porch, and while she masked it as a necessary chore, he knew it was merely busywork to give her mind a much-needed reprieve. He crossed his arms and leaned his shoulder against the doorway, quietly watching and awaiting her response. She took a long, deep breath and held it briefly.

"That depends," she replied, turning around to face him. She leaned back against the porch railing, placing her hands on the banister at her sides and shifting her weight to them. "Physically, much better than I expected." Nodding to herself, she chewed a bit at the inside of her cheek before continuing, "psychologically, not so much."

"What do you mean?" Cye's troubled sea-green eyes peered out of the doorway now.

"Being here, without his armor," Iris noted. "That's not going over well."

"Dais served Talpa faithfully all this time." Anubis emerged from the cemetery path. In his hands he carried the woman's shears and a cloth bag that appeared full of grassy weeds, his effort to offer her assistance in her usual tasks. "And he repaid that loyalty by discarding him like a broken tool. I believe Dais's anger is the result of the realization that his enemies are more concerned about his fate than his master."

Iris frowned. It was an implication she had not considered, as obvious as it may have been.

"It is a difficult truth," the Warlord continued, his voice softening. "I did not want to accept it, either."

"Well, hopefully he's ready to accept breakfast today," Iris sighed, pushing off the railing. "He hasn't eaten at all." A long, quivering yawn crawled past her lips as she squeezed past Ryo.

"And you haven't slept," Cye said critically, gently stretching his arm out across the doorway to stop her.

"It's pretty hard to do with all of this nonsense going on," she countered, "and he needs to be monitored around the clock for _at least_ a few more days."

"Let us take a shift, then," Cye pressed. Seeing the skeptical glance she shot him in return, he frowned. "You know _I_ won't do anything."

" _None of us_ would," Ryo interjected. "Come on, Iris, you've gotta trust us at least a little." Her dark eyes settled on him, lingering long and stern for several moments.

"I'll think about it." With that, she turned back, gently lifting Cye's arm up and over her head to pass and make her way to the kitchen.

She noticed footsteps behind her as she leaned under the cabinet to grab a pot, though she made little move to acknowledge them at first. As the warriors had become more comfortable with their surroundings they had gone about their normal business, helping themselves to the kitchen and grounds. It was as she ignited the stove and added stock to the pot that she realized the feet had not simply come and gone with a brief greeting, but lingered at her side. Looking over her shoulder, she found the sheepish face of Kento staring back.

"Hey," he managed, scratching at the back of his neck a bit.

"Hi, stranger," Iris replied, her voice cheerful.

"What're you doing?" He shuffled closer.

"Making some food for a very bitter Warlord," she muttered, stirring the stock pot.

"Mind if I help?"

"Sorry, I'm fresh out of rat poison for you to put in it." Her voice was still light and cheery, but there was a bite underneath that made Hardrock wince. He frowned and set his hands on the counter to lean against them.

"Okay, I deserved that," he conceded. Iris offered a sarcastic, perturbed expression from under her brows. "Look, I just don't want you to get hurt, okay? These guys are bad news." He shot a glance over his shoulder as if ensuring they were alone. "Both of them."

"Kento," Iris snipped, her voice terse. "You have to trust that I can take care of myself. I was doing it for hundreds of years before you came along."

"I know, I know," he sighed, "and I'm sure you'll be doing it for hundreds of years after I'm gone, too. But so long as I'm around, I just," his voice trailed off briefly and he ran a hand through his dark blue locks. "I can't let something bad happen to you." He looked over at her, his eyes serious and dark now. "Please be careful. If _either_ one of them so much as lays a hand on you, I'll—"

"I get it." Iris ladled the soup into a bowl, setting it on a tray with a small assortment of other dishes. Stopping in her work, she turned to him with an arm outstretched. "Give me a hug, you big lunk."

It was an offer the man happily accepted, wrapping her tight in his arms and drawing her close. She coiled her own around his shoulders and gave them a squeeze.

"Now I see why these guys keep you around," she confessed, "you're impossible to stay mad at." Releasing him, she found a cheeky grin smirking back at her and rolled her eyes. "Stay out of trouble." Collecting the tray, she started out of the kitchen, turning her head over her shoulder. "If you want to be helpful, go find that broken tombstone and bring it inside. I'll have to see if I can repair it."

"You got it!"

Iris turned down the hallway, noting the silence that had fallen on this section of the house. It seemed the men mostly stuck together, and Mia and Yuli were inclined do the same, or perhaps they were simply avoiding being alone in the distal end of the house with one of the Dark Warlords. It was a fear not without merit; Dais had endured his injuries with a frightening amount of strength, and there was no guarantee how long he would remain incapacitated.

Turning into the room, Iris found the man awake and alert. His head was turned to the side, examining something at his left. He had apparently tried to reach for the item, his left arm at rest on the floor outstretched toward it. As soon as he noticed her presence, however, he pulled his hand back and folded it on to his chest.

"I brought you something to eat," Iris offered.

"I am not hungry." The reply was obstinate and pithy.

"Yeah, I figured you would say that." The woman stepped inside, walking closer and kneeling to set the tray down at her side. She moved her eyes to the point he had been reaching for: a long shelf of aging books. "What were you looking at?"

At first, it seemed Dais did not intend to respond. He was quiet, watching her with an ice-cold grey eye and a straight-lipped pokerface. He glanced back to the side.

"Your library is impressive," he confessed, his admission slow and quiet.

"Thank you. I've had a very long time to curate it." Iris watched him contemplatively, her hands set firmly on her legs and allowing her to shift her weight on to them. "Do you want to read something?" She noticed the skeptical look she received in response and continued, "you're not a prisoner. You don't have to lay in here staring blankly at the ceiling."

She waited a beat, then offered both arms out to him and wiggled her fingers. "Come on. I'll help you sit up."

Dais maintained that cold, unreadable expression. She was kind, _infuriatingly_ so, and yet somehow still with just enough venom and intolerance to seem genuine. She had not insisted on his eating, instead showing no particular concern when the meals she provided were thrown away uneaten. When he resisted her assistance in dressing him, she coolly left him to struggle on his own. And yet here she was, sitting with open arms and an offer to make him more comfortable. Iris was either genuinely good-hearted, or an incredible actress, and he had not yet determined which he believed.

Finally, Dais shifted and reached forward to meet her arms. She graciously accepted him into her grasp, reaching beneath his shoulders securely to help him into an upright position.

"Now, which one were you reaching for?" Her dark eyes skimmed the multicolored spines along the shelf.

"The blue one," the Warlord replied. She searched for the tome and tugged it out of its place, looking at the cover.

"Good choice," she remarked as she held it out to him. "He pissed off a lot of people with that book."

Dais quietly took the book from her hands, bringing it to rest in his lap as he watched her in silence. She seemed unfazed by his scrutiny, gold-flecked eyes simply staring right back at him in equal wordlessness.

"Why are you doing this?" His voice reflected his cynicism.

"What, letting you read my books?" Her brows furrowed a bit, simultaneously amused and bewildered.

"All of this. Treating my wounds, offering food, clothing."

"Wow, you have _incredibly_ low standards," Iris quipped. She shook her head a bit, "Dais, listen. You're human, okay? An absolutely despicable human, but human none-the-less. You deserve dignity and respect." She offered a small, flat smile. "I don't have a lot to offer, but I can give you that."

"And if I return to the Dynasty?" There was a tinge of softness to his tone now, uncertain and grim.

"Then at least you'll know your enemy respects you." She studied him for a moment before speaking again, "are you hungry?" A brief silence responded before he slowly nodded.

"Yes," he admitted.

"So what's our plan from here?" Sage's steely violet eye drifted across the table to Ryo, who shook his head a bit.

"We've got some serious trouble on our hands," Ryo stated. "First, we need to figure out what it means for us that Talpa's got Dais's armor, _without_ Dais in it." He glanced across the table to Mia, who was seated with her hands knitted in her lap. She furrowed her brows, and the disconcerted expression that crossed her face now made his stomach sink.

"There was a part of the legend," Mia said, "something about a bridge between the Nether World and mortal realm. My grandfather mentioned it only once, when I asked if the armors could be taken back into Talpa's control."

"A bridge?" Kento scratched at his face a bit.

"The armors," Sage declared. "But what does that mean?"

"I can't be sure," Mia confessed. "I don't remember the verse exactly."

"How _can_ you be sure?" Ryo pressed.

"I would have to go back to the lab." Her dark blue eyes met his uncertainly, and a frown curled on her lips. "I know that means Iris can't go with us."

"And we can't leave her here alone," Kento insisted, "with two Warlords."

"We have to split up," Rowen acknowledged. "It's the only way."

"Kento, you and Cye stay here with Iris," Ryo ordered. "I know the three of you can handle those two if they decide to try anything. Rowen, Sage and I will go with Mia to Toyama."

"What about me?" Yuli simpered, peering through the doorway at the warriors.

"You stick with Kento and Cye. It's not safe to drag you back through that soldier-infested city." There was a low, rolling growl behind the boy, and White Blaze's massive head curled out around Yuli's torso. "White Blaze, you stay here and protect Yuli. Keep him out of trouble." The tiger rubbed his face against Yuli's chest in agreement.

"Of course _you're_ happy about staying here, you lovesick house cat," Kento taunted. Wildfire rolled his eyes.

"You guys do whatever you have to," he said gravely, "to keep these two safe." A grim seriousness came over Kento and Cye's faces and both nodded dutifully.


	25. Chapter 25: Trust

The house was quiet.

It should have been a welcome relief from the seemingly endless bustle of its inhabitants, but as he lay awake in the silence, Dais found it unsettling.

It was early morning; he had deduced this from the golden sunlight pouring across the wood floor of the hallway and the din of the woods outside. The grounds had very distinct sounds throughout the day, and the Warlord had quickly familiarized himself with all of them: smaller songbirds in the daylight hours, bellowing cranes in the late afternoon and evening, and owls and crickets at nightfall. But there was usually another morning sound – Iris's voice and the chattering of her company – and today, it was absent.

He was slow to sit up, a soft groan crawling through his teeth. Heaviness in his chest swiftly blossomed into a deep, throbbing pain, and he coiled his arm around his ribs to quell it. Regaining composure, Dais crawled to his feet. His knees felt weak and his head whirled, bringing him to lean against the room's small reading desk for support. He took an apprehensive step, and then another, toddling to the door with his fingers lingering against the bookshelves lining the walls. Leaning out to peer down each end of the hallway, he found it silent and empty.

"You know I don't like this."

Ryo managed a cheesy smirk to meet the woman's grim expression. Iris's stern eyes hardened in response and she lifted her chin indignantly.

" _Ryo_ ," she hissed.

"I don't know what you're worried about us for," Rowen piped in, "half the Dynasty is here with _you_."

"I'm serious."

"So is he," Sage noted.

"Iris." Ryo reached out to set his hands on her arms, giving them a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "We got this, okay? We'll be back before you know it."

"And if you aren't?"

"Then you and Kento can mount a search party." The words brought the caretaker pause.

"You're not _all_ going?" Iris looked now to Kento, then to Cye. An uncomfortable silence answered, and her eyes shot back to Ryo, "now I _really_ don't like this."

"Someone has to stay here with you," Mia said, her voice soft and empathetic.

"We don't know what Dais might do once he regains all of his strength," Sage agreed.

"I assure you, I would not allow him to harm her."

Anubis's voice was calm but firm. He had been observing quietly from a few steps behind Iris, leaned against the side of the great lilac tree. The resulting silence was broken by a long, rolling chuff from White Blaze, who curled around from behind the man's legs to peer at the Ronins.

"Just please be careful," Iris said finally, cutting through the awkward stillness. "Don't do anything stupid."

"You know I won't let them," Mia chimed in. She opened her arms for a hug that the woman gladly reciprocated as the warriors exchanged farewell handshakes and fistbumps.

Iris watched after the four as they turned away and treaded off into the woods. Lingering a few seconds, Kento turned and started his path back to the house.

"Dais isn't the only one we're keeping an eye on," Hardrock said as he walked by Anubis, his voice low and deliberate. White Blaze huffed through his nose, his tail curling in the air tensely. The Warlord made no move to acknowledge him as he passed, but turned his head a bit to glimpse silently over his shoulder at his back. Cye followed behind Kento, offering him a half-hearted smile.

"He _really_ does not like you, does he?" Iris stood in front of Anubis now, watching after the men on their way to the house. Yuli skipped out from his place in the garden to join them and clasped his hands around Kento's arm; the warrior's cold demeanor melted away as he lifted the boy from the ground by way of his bent elbow.

"Can you blame him?" Anubis's voice was soft, and the smallest smirk curled on his lips, but his eyes betrayed something deeper and crestfallen.

"No, I guess not." She frowned, easing her hand out toward him, but hesitated before stopping short. She looked up to meet his gaze briefly and drew her hand back to herself, closing her fingers into a relaxed fist. "I need to see what I can do about that broken tombstone."

"Of course." He followed behind her as she walked up the cemetery trail. Parting from her company and continuing past the fork in the path leading toward the house, he stopped momentarily to watch after her as she meandered into the gravestones, his heart skipping frantically in his chest.

Anubis turned again to the homestead, stopping in his tracks as his eyes settled on the porch. Dais stood there in silence, the front of his shoulder leaned gently against a wooden column. He could not avoid how frail his former comrade currently appeared; silver locks drawn back into a ponytail exposed his thin face, and the open collar of the grey kimono coat he was wearing revealed the vivid purple bruising marring his chest. An ivory hand rested on the porch banister for stability.

"I would not have expected you to be walking already," Anubis remarked.

"I was getting tired of that small room," Dais confessed.

"Fair enough," he conceded. Watching the man, he saw his steel blue eye trail across the cemetery grounds, and following it he found his sight had settled on Iris. He looked quickly back to the Warlord, his gaze now serious and unwavering.

"You know the woman well." Dais's voice was low, but unquestioning.

"I am not sure I can say that now, after all this time." Anubis approached the statement with caution. "But I did once, yes. Why?"

"I am still trying to determine her intentions in keeping me alive." His eye had not budged from the woman, who was hunched over in the graves and only barely visible through the stone monuments around her. When his company chuckled, however, his gaze shifted to him and his brows furrowed.

"I understand." Anubis stepped up the stairs to join the Warlord on the porch. "We are accustomed to the Dynasty, where no deed is without ulterior motives." His eyes met Dais's gaze, intense but empathetic. "But I think you will find she has no further intentions than those she has already revealed to you."

"Ah, you're up!" The voice startled both men, drawing their attention away from each other. Iris had emerged from the graves and was now standing at the foot of the porch stairs. She wiped a sprinkling of sweat from her brow and a flash of gold glinted in her eyes in the morning sun. "Good. You can help me fix the grave you broke."

Dais shot Anubis an uncertain glance, finding only a shrug in return. With that, he continued into the house quietly, hiding his amused smirk until he was certain he was out of sight.

"How are you feeling?" Iris put one foot on the bottom stair.

"I am fine," Dais replied.

"You are a _liar_ ," she quipped, though her voice remained cheerful. She offered her hand up to him, "come on. Walk with me."

He looked down at her hand with that same cold, unreadable expression. Glancing up, he found no further information in her face; she simply gazed back at him, neither smiling nor frowning, her hand untiring. Finally, he relented, lifting his arm to bring his palm to rest in hers. Stepping down from the stairs, he lurched and clamped his free arm around his ribs, stifling the painful groan that threatened to escape him.

Just as suddenly as the pain stabbed through him, a warm sensation enveloped his torso. Peeling his eye open, he realized Iris's free arm had curled around him and she had drawn his body into her side for support.

"That massive ego is only hurting _you_ ," Iris said, "I'm here either way."

As he struggled to catch his breath, Dais met her gaze; this time, he found the slightest tinge of empathy there. His stance relaxed, slacking a bit into her grasp. Withdrawing her arm from his body, Iris turned to face forward into the cemetery with him, his hand gently clasped in her own. She took a slow, careful pace forward, waiting for him to follow suit, and led him through the cemetery one step at a time.

Anubis watched the twosome through the open doors of the great room, smiling a bit to himself. Hearing footsteps approaching, he turned his head over his shoulder to see Kento had joined him. The warrior lingered a few feet away, his eyes now focused out into the graveyard as well.

"Just when I thought I had her figured out, she goes on a stroll through the graveyard with my mortal enemy," Kento huffed, frowning. Anubis chuckled at the revelation, turning his attention back outside.

"If there is anyone capable of reaching Dais, it is Iris," he said. "He realizes she is his intellectual equal. And she is providing the information he needs to question what he believes."

Kento watched the man in silent contemplation. He recognized the tone in his voice as he spoke, the tenderness with which he said her name.

"What's your place in all of this?" His fist clenched a bit at his side, his hardened stare and furrowed brows focused on the Warlord. Glancing again over his shoulder, Anubis noted the tension in his presence and turned to face him fully.

"I understand your hesitance in trusting me, Hardrock," he said carefully. "But you must know I have changed. I see now the error in Talpa's ways, and my own foolishness in believing him. My place is among you, against the Dynasty."

"And Iris?"

The question brought him pause. He considered it quietly, his heart struck with a pang of guilt.

"By far the most abhorrent thing I have done," Anubis confessed. "For that, I cannot ask your understanding, as I cannot even offer it to myself."

Kento was still and silent for a long moment. Finally, he stepped closer, his hand outstretched to the man. Anubis glanced at it, his brows furrowing, before looking back up to him.

"The Ancient One said we've gotta trust each other," Kento said resolutely. "It's the only way we're gonna beat Talpa."

Anubis took a long, resolving breath and nodded. Reaching forward, he clasped Hardrock's hand firmly in his own.


	26. Chapter 26: Legends

An ominous, inky sky loomed overhead, with green luminescence pervading the thick, unmoving clouds. The warmth of the afternoon sun was swiftly swallowed up by an otherworldly chill as day plunged into night. There was a faint, haunting howling in the distance, unidentifiable as either human or beast and the only sound in the piercing silence within the van.

"From one graveyard to another," Rowen sighed.

"Let's hope this one stays as quiet as the last," Sage remarked, his arms crossed as he watched the crumbling landscape roll by outside.

Shifting forward in his seat, Ryo caught glimpse of Mia and came to a halt. Her hands were clenched around the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles had blanched white. Her shoulders were tense, flexed up close to her neck, and her sea green eyes were dark and tumultuous.

"Hey," Ryo said gently, "are you okay?" When silence responded, he reached past the car seat to rest his hands on her arms, feeling their tension ease only slightly. "Mia?"

"I haven't been back to the lab since," her voice trailed off, and he saw her fingers twitch to clutch the wheel.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Sage queried.

"Of course." Her reply was firm now, and she straightened up in her seat as if reassuring herself of her answer. "This is important. I'll be fine."

Sage glanced over his shoulder to meet Ryo's gaze, receiving only a concerned frown in return. Mia's eyes remained steadfast out the windshield, her jaw now clenched tightly shut and her head erect. She would never admit the full extent of her discomfort, and pushing any further would be futile. Wildfire eased back into his seat quietly and shifted his gaze out the window.

The smooth asphalt of the highway gave way to craterous, broken gravel. The once-lush campus of the university had long withered and died; trees lining the roadway now slumped over, their branches gnarled and flecked with black, crumbling leaves. Hedges and grass were twisted and grey. The warriors straightened up to watch through the windows, cautious eyes scanning the grounds.

"Oh no," Mia sighed as the van rolled up to the entrance. Dark windows glared back, cracked glass and broken shards jutting from the aluminum frames.

"This doesn't look good," Rowen remarked as he drew the van's sliding door open and hopped to the ground.

"The generator must have finally given out," the woman lamented.

"All your grandfather's notes were on his computer, weren't they?" Ryo's voice carried the tiniest hint of discouragement.

"So we've hit a dead end," Sage stated, circling around the van to join at Mia's side.

"Not exactly," she confessed. "My grandfather kept hardcopies of all of his notes, in case the worst happened."

"The end of the world," Rowen noted.

"Power grid failure, electrical disruption," Mia added. "Anything that could compromise the files." She started toward the university entrance and tugged on the doors to find them bent and obstructed. Huffing a bit, she took a step back and scanned the building for another entrance.

Ryo strolled up to the entryway, lifting his leg to drive his foot into the doors and unceremoniously break them apart. Loud, metallic screeching echoed through the dark, empty corridors as they dragged across the floor and slammed into the walls on either side with ear-splitting booms. Looking back over his shoulder, he found Mia's utterly unimpressed glare and crossed arms.

"It's not like we have to be quiet," he offered.

"You could have at least _tried_ to minimize the damage," she chastised. "This is still a school, you know!"

"They're going to have to rebuild the place anyway!" He turned back and stepped over the threshold into the darkened hall, "now come on, we need to get moving."

"Ryo's right," Sage agreed, "the less time we're here, the better." With that, he followed behind the man. Rowen trailed on his heels, stopping before the door and motioning for Mia to proceed first.

"So all we have to do is find Dr. Koji's notes and we're out of here?" Rowen inquired.

"About that." Even at its low volume, the grimace was audible in Mia's voice. She squeezed past Ryo to lead the path up the stairs. The door at the second-floor landing creaked open slowly as she pushed against it and peered around the emptiness.

"I don't like the sound of that," Halo declared.

The men followed closely behind her, filtering into the second-floor corridor. It was stifling and still, the air stagnant from months of abandonment. Dust particles swirled in the hazy light that filtered through the broken windows lining the hall, and a distinct smell of mildew clung to their noses. Shattered glass crunched under the woman's feet as she led the way down the empty hallway, leaving the warriors to peer in the rooms as they passed. Desks had been overturned in the final moments of chaos, papers and pens strewn about like garbage. The silence was more unsettling now and piqued their attention to every creak and groan of the damaged building.

Mia turned into an open doorway at the end of the corridor, her companions following suit. Ryo recognized this place now, the office where her grandfather took his last breaths, and he could not ignore the stiffness in her stance as she stood in its emptiness.

She took only a moment to resolve her nerves before walking to a wide closet running along the office's far side. Drawing it open revealed long bookshelves stacked tightly with books, their spines mostly unmarked or unreadable.

"You're kidding, right?" Rowen asked.

"Afraid not," Mia confessed, giving him a small frown over her shoulder.

"Well," Sage sighed, "let's get on it, I guess." He joined Mia at the bookshelves and started scanning the spines. "Is there anything that might suggest what we should be looking for?"

"It might have some of the armor emblems on it, but I'm really not sure," she replied, thumbing over the spines at her eye level. Ryo and Rowen joined at her other side and each started on a separate shelf, Ryo taking a seat to examine the bottom row of books.

"Man, this must be Dr. Koji's entire lifetime of work," he remarked.

"Yes, that about sums it up," Mia said, the slightest smile touching her lips. "I remember when I was a little girl, I used to look at all of his journals and dream of the day I had published so many." Wildfire flashed a small smirk up at her before looking back down.

"Hey Mia." Sage's voice drew her gaze across the shelf to a faded red spine where his intense eyes were fixed. "There's something strange on this one."

Moving closer to him, she leaned down to examine the tome. There was an odd, jagged etching in gold crawling across the spine and she furrowed her brows. Poking her fingers into the shelf, she slid it out, and doing so exposed a larger etching across its cover, the continuation of that on the spine. She held it out at arm's length to find the image formed a ghastly, abstract fanged skull and a chill crawled down her spine.

"I think we may have found it," she murmured. She carried it to the large desk in the center of the office, carefully bringing it to rest on top. Rowen reached a hand down to tug Ryo to his feet and the two followed Sage to join her.

Drawing the cover open revealed aged, browning pages with diligently written verses. As she combed through them, however, the script gradually became sloppy, more frantic, as if the person who had written it feared running out of time.

"This isn't my grandfather's writing," Mia noted slowly. As her eyes shifted rapidly across the pages, she came to a sudden stop and she pointed to a scrawling line. "There. Drinking strength from immortal fire. That's the start of the legend." Scanning the verses, her brows furrowed. "That's… strange."

"What's that?" Sage inquired.

"That line of verse the Ancient One gave us, about the Oblivion armor." Mia looked up from the page, unnerved. "It isn't in here."

"What does that mean?" Rowen asked, planting both hands on the desk and leaning into them.

"I'm not sure." She turned the page again, sinking into the desk chair quietly. That ghastly skull glared out from the tome now, painted in dark, rusty red. Nine medallions surrounded it, and despite the crudeness of the sketches, they were unmistakable: the emblems of the nine armors.

"There are only nine," Sage noted quietly. Looking up, he found the equally serious eyes of Ryo and Rowen fixed on him.

"Metal pallbearers, cleansed of virtue," Mia read aloud, "staves of souls nine forge the bridge."

"Pallbearers?" Ryo questioned. "Staves of souls, just what the hell does that mean?"

"A stave is a plank. Planks of souls. The armors don't make the bridge," Rowen deduced. "We do."

" _All_ of us." Sage's intense gaze settled back on the page.

"So what about the Oblivion? Where does it fit in?"

Mia leafed through a few more pages quietly, slowly shaking her head. Skimming the text for mention of another armor, she found nothing. And in a handful of pages emblazoned with the armor emblems, only nine appeared. She tried to quell the dread settling in her chest as confusion tied her stomach in knots.

"I don't understand," she said quietly, "even the Ancient One confirmed the tenth armor's existence. It should be in here."

"Maybe it's in a different book?" Ryo offered. She shook her head with a frown.

"My grandfather was very careful about how he filed his notes. Any information on the Oblivion armor would have been here with the rest of them."

"Unless it didn't belong with the rest of them." Seeing their eyes shift to him, Rowen straightened up. "Hear me out on this." He leaned against the desk, his voice lowered and speech slowing for emphasis. "What if it _didn't_ belong to Talpa?"

"The Ancient One said—"

"Maybe he wasn't telling the whole truth."

"Then who do you think it belonged to?" Sage straightened up and crossed his arms.

"The only other person we know who fought the Dynasty."

Contemplative silence settled on the office and the warriors exchanged uncertain glances. But just as suddenly as the hush fell, their thoughts were interrupted by a low, chilling laughter thundering from the darkness of the corridor.


	27. Chapter 27: Familiar

"Can we go, _pleeeease_?"

Anubis's gaze shifted from one side of the table to the other. Yuli had both hands resting on its top, raised up on his knees and his weight leaned forward into his palms. Cye was seated directly across from him, a skeptical look etched on his face.

"I don't know, Yuli," he replied slowly, frowning a bit. Anubis sipped at his tea quietly, watching the boy from behind his cup.

"But I never miss it!" the child lamented.

"Things are a little different now, buddy," Kento added.

"Kyoto is the _perfect place_ to see them, though!" He was unrelenting, and Anubis found himself chuckling a bit under his breath.

"See what?" Iris walked in through the open front door, a large, heavy ceramic pot with a flowering plant hugged in her arms. She crossed the room to bring it to rest atop one of the counters, then opened a nearby drawer to rifle through it.

"The cherry blossoms!" Yuli exclaimed.

"Oh, that's right," she said knowingly, nodding to herself as realization struck. "Their first bloom is coming up, isn't it?" She withdrew a small pair of sharp shears from the drawer and closed it, turning her attention to the pot and rotating it carefully to inspect the blooming plant. Reaching delicately into its foliage, she began clipping at its branches.

"Your birthday is soon as well, then," Anubis noted. The woman paused in her work and turned her head to look over her shoulder at him.

"You remembered." There was a small, soft smile perked up at one corner of her lips now, and she huffed a brief, surprised chuckle. The Warlord met her gaze and smiled a bit in return.

"You never told us your birthday was so soon!" Yuli chirped.

"I don't exactly celebrate it anymore," Iris said, returning to her pruning.

"Why not?"

"When you've been alive as long as I have, birthdays get a bit tiring," she mused. "I'm not even sure how many I've had at this point."

"We should celebrate it this time! At the sakura festival this weekend!" he declared. "You can pick whatever age you want!" Iris let out a hearty laugh.

"Letting a woman choose however old she'd like to be. You are wise beyond your years, my friend," she laughed.

"So can we go?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Uh, you think that's a good idea?" Kento interjected, his tone uncertain.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Her confused gaze peeked over her shoulder briefly, her eyebrow perked. She saw the sideways glance Hardrock passed Anubis's direction and rolled her eyes a bit. "Are we still doing this?"

"I'm _just saying_ ," Kento fired back, "he hasn't been around other people in a _long_ time. Are we sure he even knows _how_ to be around people? And what are you going to do, leave Dais here?"

"I'm sure he will manage," Iris quipped. "And Dais can walk with me."

"Walk with you where?" A deep voice drawled from the hallway, drawing all eyes its direction. Dais stepped just inside the room; he appeared much less fragile now, his shoulders back and his chin tipped down to allow him to look at them from beneath his brow. Iris waved her hand at him dismissively. He shot a glance across the room to Anubis, his usual poker face betraying a tinge of confusion and only compounded by the equally bewildered look he received in return.

"I think you just like putting us in really weird situations," Kento huffed.

"I don't care if you go or not," Iris asserted. She turned the pot around to inspect her work and, satisfied, she returned the shears to the drawer. "I have a date regardless."

There was an awkward, silent beat, and Dais's eye widened a bit. Iris walked to the table and offered her hand down to Yuli.

"Isn't that right?"

"Right!" The boy jumped to his feet to place his hand in her palm excitedly.

"Alright, alright," Kento sighed, crossing his arms. "We'll go."

"Should we wait for the guys?" Yuli asked. "They'll be back by the weekend, won't they?"

"I think so," Cye agreed. "We certainly don't want them coming back to an empty house."

"That reminds me," Iris started, "I need to go to the market for a few things. Can I trust you all to stay here and play nice without me?" Her eyes shifted between Kento and Dais.

"I'm not gonna do anything," Hardrock snipped defensively.

"I'll make sure he doesn't," Cye offered. Iris's gaze moved to Dais, who lifted his chin indignantly but remained silent.

"I'm taking that as a yes."

"I would like to go with you," Anubis stated. The expression that responded was not harsh as it had been so many times before now; instead, her gaze softened as it met his.

"Sure," she replied, "but you're carrying everything."

* * *

Staring. It was not an entirely foreign experience to him, but the magnitude of it caught him off-guard. Anubis was acutely aware of the eyes following him through the market, even as he tried to ignore them.

"Wow," Iris remarked, "this is familiar."

"I am sure we look very odd together," he noted. She noticed his fleeting glance down her body and frowned.

"Do you want to change?" Her voice was hushed. "We can get you some modern clothes. I just thought you'd be more comfortable in something like you used to wear."

"You were correct," he assured her. "And I truly appreciate that concern. Let them stare."

She considered his words briefly, watching him as he stared calmly ahead. Carefully, she reached up to coil her arm around his. He felt his heart skip a beat, looking down to see her attention directed forward.

"You were quite adamant about the festival," he remarked, his cool tone concealing his racing heart. "Why?"

"That poor boy has had his entire life flipped on its head," Iris replied. "He went from being a regular kid with a skateboard and video games to living in an abandoned graveyard with the threat of the apocalypse looming over him. He needs a break." She frowned. "They probably all do."

"Miss Iris!" The voice called out from one of the vendor kiosks propped up on the side of the street, its tone warm and inviting. The two looked over to find a young black-haired man waving cordially at them.

"Hello, Akihito," she replied kindly, turning against Anubis to lead him toward the booth.

The Warlord instantly noticed the man's dark eyes as they flicked down to catch glimpse of their interlocked arms. Again, his heart started to pound, so loudly in his own ears he could have sworn even Iris could hear it.

"And who is this fine man?" Akihito's lips curled into a grin. "A suitor?"

"Merely an escort," Anubis interjected before Iris could speak. "You may call me Koma." He pretended not to notice her upward glance at him, politely bowing his head. Akihito returned the gesture.

"That's a shame," he lamented. "I can't imagine why this beautiful creature is still alone!"

"Neither can I." His tone softened, and though it may have been lost on their company, Iris could not ignore the tinge of regret lacing his words. She offered his arm a small squeeze, and he pressed it into his side to draw her closer to him.

"The sakura festival is coming," Akihito declared. "Will we be seeing you there?"

"You will, actually," Iris confirmed. "Both of us." She reached across herself to set her free hand on Anubis's forearm, but as she looked up she found his eyes focused elsewhere. Following them, she noticed a sliver of light green fabric nestled in a sea of color, its face patterned with bamboo. "Akihito, how much for that yukata? The green one." The man turned at the waist to look back at the garment in question.

"I could not possibly—" Anubis started, silenced by the firm pat she gave his wrist.

"For you, Miss Iris?" He flashed a playful smile.

"Aki," Iris said warningly.

"Consider it a gift," he insisted. "I'm just happy to see you have company for once."

"You were always a charmer," Anubis mused as the man turned away to collect and wrap the yukata.

"I even charmed the fearsome Koma, once upon a time," Iris remarked lightly.

His eyes shifted down to meet hers. Golden halos glinted in the sunlight filtering through the market, and a sweet smile had found its way to her face, her rosy cheeks glowing. It took all his strength to resist bringing her closer. His breath arrested in his chest.

 _And it seems little has changed_.


	28. Chapter 28: Blind

"We simply _must_ stop meeting like this," a deep voice hissed from the shadows of the corridor.

"Sekhmet," Ryo growled. He reached his arm out to push Mia behind him. A cold cackle erupted in reply.

"Tell me, what purpose could this place serve now? Other than rubbing salt in old wounds." The voice seemed to change directions as it spoke, at first drawling through the doorway, then crawling through the ceiling tiles, and finally permeating the very center of the room. Rowen turned to face the office windows as Sage faced the bookcases.

"We're not your enemies," Rowen declared, "we all have the same place in this."

"You are delusional," the voice growled. "My place is at the side of Emperor Talpa, where glory awaits. You rodents will be crushed in the melee!"

"Talpa plans to kill us, _all_ of us," Sage stated. "He's only using you as a host for the armor. Your fate will be the same as ours!"

" _Lies_." There was a glint of silver in the darkness of the hallway. A brilliant orange flash sliced through the air and struck the desk, splintering it and tearing the abandoned computer monitor in two. Mia yelped as Ryo curled his arm around her waist and pulled her out of the slurry of debris.

The men made move to suit up, but the Warlord was steps ahead. He cut through the room like lightning, his blades slicing through the air with venomous accuracy. Ryo let out an agonized cry amid the chaos and dropped to his knees, one hand clamped over his eyes. He slumped over to plant his free elbow against the ground, groaning painfully.

" _Ryo_!" Sage instinctively reached out to his comrade, but as he did so, a blinding bolt of brilliant orange cut across his sight. He stumbled back, struggling to keep his footing as he grasped his face. Backing into the bookcases, a few manuscripts tumbled down on him and he grabbed at a shelf with one hand to try to stabilize his stance.

Rowen dodged a strike from the Warlord, darting first to his side and then ahead to pass by him. Staggering through the splinted remnants of the desk, he found steady footing.

"Armor of Strata—"

The words strangled to a halt as a suffocating pressure closed around his throat. Rowen reached out and desperately grabbed at Sekhmet's arm as he coiled his fingers around his neck and slowly lifted his feet from the ground.

"Not so powerful without all of your little friends, are you?" he hissed. "You have never been a match for the Dynasty."

"Sekhmet," Rowen gasped, "listen to me. Your life is at stake here. Talpa wants to rule the world, not share it."

"Master Talpa bestowed the armor on me," Sekhmet declared, "so that I could serve him once this world became his."

"So then what about his other Warlords? What about Anubis?"

"Anubis is a traitor," the Warlord snarled. "He betrayed our emperor for a mortal woman. His disloyalty sealed his fate."

"And Dais? Talpa left him here to die, he didn't even have the decency to bring him back to the Nether World." The statement brought Sekhmet pause.

"Dais was weak," he said finally, though his words seemed less confident than before. "Undeserving of the glory and power that awaits us."

"I think you know better." Rowen's fingers tightened around the man's wrist. "I think you know he's been using you. But it's so much worse than that." His blue eyes flicked downward to the floor. "You can see it for yourself. The legend is right there, every last word of it. Staves of souls nine forge the bridge. Talpa needs human souls, _our_ souls, to build the passageway between the Nether Realm and the mortal world. He's just keeping you satiated until it's time to turn you into a human sacrifice with the rest of us."

Beady eyes watched Strata with fierce intensity. His gaze shifted slowly, his head unmoving as his sight dropped to the floor where the warrior was looking. The book lay open amid the blistered wood debris. Nine symbols glared back at him, symbols he recognized instantly as those of the armors. He silently skimmed the words trailing the page, his face betraying nothing.

 _Is it not disconcerting to you that Master Talpa's greatest concern is the armor Cale is wearing, and not the fate of Cale himself?_ His breath hung in his chest as the words tumbled through his mind. Were they telling the truth? Had Dais already figured it out?

"Thunderbolt Cut!"

Blinding white light flooded the Warlord's sight and thoughts. His fingers recoiled from Rowen's throat and instinctively he shielded his eyes from the ethereal glow of Halo's sword. Sekhmet took several clumsy steps away, backing up to one of the office's shattered windows. A single, groaning grunt escaped him as he vanished in the brilliance.

Rowen clasped his hand to his throat, gasping for breath as he dropped to his knees. Black bubbles flickered across his vision as he struggled to replenish lost oxygen.

"You alright?" Looking up, Rowen found Sage's cool violet eyes looking back. They appeared completely unharmed now, the result of the man's innate healing abilities, and his sight had returned with keen sharpness.

"I'll be alright," Rowen confirmed, planting a hand on his own thigh for support. Sage nodded to himself, turning quietly to walk to Ryo.

Mia uncovered herself from the protection of one of the office tables carefully. She hurried across the floor to Rowen's side, kneeling to rest her hand on his shoulder. He offered a paltry smile and set his hand on hers reassuringly.

"I think you might have got through to him," Mia breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Maybe," Rowen agreed, his tone cautious. "He saw that page. He knows what it says now. But whether that's enough, who knows?"

Sage knelt to Ryo, still in his subarmor and slumped over in suffering. He reached forward and gently eased the man up into a seated position, revealing swollen, red eyes that had puckered painfully shut.

"Sekhmet's getting stronger," Sage noted uneasily. "And I'm afraid we might not be keeping up." He drew his blade and passed it across Ryo's vision, bringing the edge to rest only hairs away from the man's nose. Stabilizing it with his free hand, he turned the blade carefully until the ambient light in the office struck it, flashing brilliant silver across Wildfire's wounded eyes.

Within moments, the angry, flaming red surrounding the man's eyes faded, and the swelling swiftly deflated. Tears quickly welled and streamed out from beneath black lashes as they fluttered and struggled to open.

"So what do we do now?" Rowen managed. He shifted to sit firmly on the floor now, one leg bent at the knee and an arm propped up across it.

"We go back to Muhimura," Sage replied coolly.

"They're gonna want to know what happened out here," Strata pressed, "what we found out."

"And we'll have to tell them."

"Maybe we should bring this." Mia gingerly plucked the aged tome from the splintered fragments of the desk, flicking bits of wood out of its pages. "There are some things it just might be easier to show than tell." She frowned a bit as she looked down to the open page, emblazoned with the armor insignia and scrawled with ominous words. She gently folded a small triangle of the leaf's corner to mark the page before closing the book and drawing it tight against her.

"What do we tell them about Sekhmet?" Ryo managed to find his voice, his fingers tenderly rubbing at his aching eyes and wiping the tears away from his cheeks.

"Exactly what they need to know," Sage replied. "The Warlords are getting stronger. And we're in for a lot trouble if we don't level up to meet them."


	29. Chapter 29: Caution

"Aren't you worried?"

Cye's soft, ocean blue eyes shifted across the porch, settling on the caretaker. Iris stood at the banister, a mug of tea cupped in both hands, her eyes gazing out across the cemetery watchfully.

"About what?" Her head did not budge. Dark eyes remained fixed among the graves, quietly observing the head of wavy hair glimmering like silver in the sunlight as it bobbed between the tombstones.

"That he might hurt something," Cye pressed.

"What could he possibly hurt?" Iris finally turned her head away to meet the Ronin's gaze, her furrowed brows indication of her confusion and tinged with annoyance. "You realize everyone out there is already dead, right?"

" _Of course I do_ ," he managed, his cheeks rapidly flushing with heat and redness. "But I mean—isn't there—some kind of _etiquette_ about graves?"

"Don't let weeds take over and don't break them," she jabbed. "He's doing a great job, actually." Her gaze shifted back out into the yard. Dais quietly inched over to the next monument, which he seemed to carefully inspect. He bowed his head briefly before leaning over to prune the flowers sprouting at its base. "It's kind of strange, how different he is right now. He is not at all like the man we fought in Toyama. It's like being here, away from the Dynasty's influence, is allowing the human to come back out."

"And Anubis?" The response was subtle, but he most certainly caught it: the softest, almost nostalgic smile perked up at the corners of her lips. Before she could respond, however, movement in the trees caught her attention. Cye's gaze followed hers and he straightened up.

Four figures emerged from the emerald foliage into the late morning sun. Mia was in the lead, and her comrades followed close but slow at her heels. Ryo was wedged between Rowen and Sage, whose arms surrounded him and held him steady.

Iris knelt to set her cup on the porch and quickly hopped down the stairs, jogging down the graveyard path toward them. Cye followed suit, his cup placed carefully beside hers and footsteps trailing behind.

Her steps slowed to a halt as she approached, her gaze settling on Wildfire's eyes marred with furious red skin. Furrowed brows and concern only deepened as she skimmed across their faces to find the purple bruising mottling Rowen's throat and jaw, and her attention turned to Mia and Sage.

"What happened?" Iris's tone was stern but uneasy.

"Let's just say the away team was waiting for us," Sage remarked. "And they're getting stronger by the day."

"Sekhmet," Cye said firmly, the damage to his comrade's sight all too familiar.

"Come on," Iris said, nodding her head back toward the house, "let's get you out of the sun. I might have something that can help." Turning away, she started up the cemetery path and called out into the graves, "come in for some tea, you need a break from the heat."

The warriors followed her voice into the ancient monuments. A soft mane of silver rose from between them as Dais got to his feet. Though the flesh bared by his yukata collar was still dappled, splashes of yellow permeated the bruising where the wound was healing. He straightened up fully now, no longer frail; in fact, were his wounds covered, he would have seemed an image of robust health.

"Whoa," Ryo murmured, "he's already back on his feet?"

The Warlord's steely eye settled on them, meeting their shocked faces with unwavering coolness. His gaze lingered for a moment before his eye narrowed, and he dropped his chin to stare back from beneath his brow.

"I'm serious," Iris called back from the porch. The man's eye shifted to her before drifting back to them briefly, and finally he trudged to the main path and started up behind her.

"And I'm afraid he's convinced Iris that he's changed," Cye said gravely, watching Dais with a keen, skeptical eye.

"Well, now we're all here again," Sage assured him, "so it doesn't matter what he's convinced her of." He took a step and nudged Ryo to do the same, Rowen stepping with the opposing foot. "There are more than enough eyes between us to keep a few on him."

"So what did you find out? At the university?" Cye asked, looking to Mia as they hiked up the graveyard path. The woman offered him only a grim half-frown.

"I think it's best we wait to talk about that," Mia replied. She glanced ahead as if looking for someone, and her voice softened as she added, "when we know no one else might be listening."

A small chill ran down Torrent's arms, unnerved by her tone. He shot a glance over his shoulder at his comrades, who only mirrored Mia's dark expression.

" _The guys are back_!" The loud, squealing declaration met them at the door, its cheerfulness a stark contrast to the gloom that hung on the warriors. Yuli's small feet came stampeding down the hall, and he only barely managed to slide to a halt in his socks before careening into the crew.

"You miss us or something?" Ryo mused, a small smile curling on his face.

"You made it after all." Anubis spoke up from the table where he was seated with a cup of tea in hand. Dais had taken his place across from the man, his own cup resting on a plate on the table and fresh steam curling into the air. Seeing the inquisitive expression he received in response, Anubis struggled to suppress a smirk, sipping at his cup to hide it.

"Just in time!" The boy bounced on the balls of his feet.

"In time for what?" Sage guided his friend to the table, easing him down into a seat carefully.

"The festival!"

"What festival?" Rowen's brows furrowed.

"Right." Iris's voice preceded her, and she leaned her head out of the kitchen, "we're going to the sakura festival tomorrow, by the way."

"We're doing _what_?" Sage looked between Cye and Iris. Torrent offered little more than a sheepish smile and light shrug.

"And you think this is a good idea?" Ryo's eyes, still sore and burning, moved slowly to Iris, squinting to see her clearly.

"I've never missed the sakura festival," Yuli whimpered, "my parents took me every year." Ryo saw Iris's brows perk up, her lips pursed a bit in a silent gesture he immediately understood. He nodded quietly to Yuli, whose mood quickly skyrocketed again and his grey eyes sparkled. "And we're going to celebrate Iris's birthday!"

"It's your birthday?" Ryo questioned.

"The last day of March," Iris confirmed, stepping out of the kitchen with a tea tray. Her eyes glanced upward in thought as she added, "I think." She distributed the cups with graceful swiftness. "I'm turning nineteen, in case anyone asks."

"You think?"

"Nineteen, that's incredibly specific," Rowen remarked slowly, "why nineteen?"

"Well, I've been eighteen for the last four-hundred something years," she mused, "I think that's long enough." As she took a seat beside Mia, she smiled across the table at Anubis. "I am officially older than you now." The man chuckled a bit and shook his head.

"Not at all," Anubis asserted. "In fact, the gap is now wider. By human standards, I will be turning twenty-two this year."

The statement brought Iris pause. Her brows furrowed and she shook her head, "how is that possible? You were only a year older than me."

"Time still passes in the Nether World," he replied, "although very slowly. For every hundred years on Earth, only one passes in the Dynasty."

"You still age," Iris concluded, her voice softening. She shifted her gaze to Dais, who at first met it before closing his eye quietly and bringing his cup to his lips. There was a sudden, shivering silence, and the caretaker's dark eyes fell to an invisible point on the table surface.

"Iris?" Mia reached over to set her hand on hers gently, "are you alright?"

"Of course," she offered half-heartedly.

"I did not mean to upset you," Anubis admitted carefully.

"It's fine." Her tone was light, but there was a melancholy in her eyes as she looked up to meet his. "It's just strange, that it's been so much longer for me." She moved her gaze across the table to Ryo, knotting her fingers together on the table. She let only another beat pass before speaking again, "I think I have an ointment that will soothe your eyes a little." Flattening her palms on the table, she pushed up and got to her feet. "It may take a minute to get it put together."

"There's no rush," Ryo assured her.

"Yuli, why don't you go help Iris?" Mia said lightly, giving the boy a sweet smile. It was an order with which he was more than happy to comply, as he leap-frogged across the room to meet her. Iris managed a genuine, grateful smile and led Yuli into the kitchen at her side.

"Man, you're good at that." Kento stood in the hall, his arms crossed and shoulder leaned against the wall. He joined the men at the table, slipping into a seat beside Cye. "So did you find what you were looking for in Toyama?"

Mia looked to Sage and Rowen with a small frown. Hardrock followed her eyes, but before he could question, he found the bruising forming across Rowen's sharp jaw.

"Whoa, what the hell happened?"

"The Warlords are getting stronger," Ryo confirmed. Through the haze of his blurry vision, he saw Dais straighten up. "Sekhmet just about took all three of us on his own."

"Talpa may be using his Nether Spirits to increase their power," Anubis stated, "as he did with me."

"He's getting desperate," Cye added. "We have seven of the armors, and he's down to only two Warlords."

The words brought an unnerving silence over the table. Mia chewed at her lip quietly, looking at Ryo with grave uncertainty. Dais's cold eye narrowed and he returned his attention to his drink, his jaw visibly clenching behind his cup.

"We need to figure something out, and fast," Sage declared. The tension emanating from the disgraced Warlord of Illusion was not lost on him, and he watched the man with sharp eyes.

"You must be careful," Anubis cautioned, his voice lowering. "If Talpa is, indeed, infusing their armors with the Nether Realm's power, they will become even more ruthless. Your righteous approach to battle may no longer withstand their evil."


	30. Chapter 30: Festival

"I am surprised you are so amenable to this."

Dais made no move to acknowledge the man, his place in front of the mirror unwavering, but he glimpsed his unreadable expression in the reflection. Anubis lingered only a short distance behind him, broad shoulders swathed in an elegant bamboo-patterned yukata. Its rich fern color contrasted his auburn hair and enhanced his eyes to a brilliant, striking green. It was those intense eyes that met Dais's gaze in the mirror glass now, neither man relenting from their stare.

"Are you?" The Warlord folded his collar over gracefully. His was a simpler garment, dark aubergine with a light marbled pattern running through its length. Though it complemented his silver hair and ivory skin, he could easily see his host's true intention in its selection: the color and patterning minimized the obvious marring of his flesh.

"This does not seem like an event you would enjoy attending."

"You are correct, it is not," came the man's cold reply, "but that is irrelevant. She wants me to go, therefore, I am going."

Dais caught it clearly in the mirror: the slightest narrowing of those vivid green eyes. At a glance he could not discern the motivation – anger? Jealousy? Finally, he pinned it as suspicion and he raised his chin in acknowledgment.

"If you are concerned I have some affections for your woman, allow me to ease your mind," he drawled. "I am simply being respectful to my host."

"She is not my woman, Dais." Anubis's voice was firm, but the other man noted the uneasily clenched fists hanging at his sides.

"Is that how you really feel?" He had turned his head over his shoulder now, an amused smirk laced with the smallest tinge of malice clinging to his lips. Anubis took a slow, deep breath, his eyes fixed on Dais's piercing gaze.

"I am not playing your mind games today," he asserted.

"Hey."

The voice was soft, but its intrusion successfully startled both men. Anubis turned to find Iris standing just inside the doorway as Dais turned his attention back to the mirror to observe her in its reflection. Anubis's heart slammed loudly in his ears as his mind raced. How long had she been standing there? Had she heard them? She lifted her hands up a bit as if in surrender.

"Sorry, I just need to get something out of the closet," she offered, pointing across the room. Anubis nodded wordlessly before dropping his gaze down to the floor as she passed by him. Looking back up, he caught glimpse of Dais's eye and smirk in the mirror and clenched his teeth.

Iris rifled through the closet, withdrawing a small garment box and starting back toward the door. She stopped briefly to look at Anubis, who turned his attention away from Dais to acknowledge her.

"That color looks great on you," she conceded, offering him a soft smile before continuing on her path out the door.

"This doesn't strike anyone else as a bad idea?" Rowen inquired, "bringing two Warlords to a crowded festival?"

"It's absolutely nuts," Ryo confessed, "but are _you_ gonna be the one to tell Yuli we're not going?" Rowen frowned a bit.

"It's just for a few hours," Kento noted. "Besides, I don't think we're gonna have a problem." Rowen and Ryo halted in place and looked his direction skeptically. "What?"

"You feeling okay?" Rowen's brow perked.

"Ha ha," Hardrock quipped sarcastically, rolling his eyes a bit. "Look, I get it, I wasn't sure about all this." He nodded a bit and his voice quieted. "But I think Anubis is telling the truth. He's changed. Can't say anything about Dais, but—"

"Here we are," Iris chimed, emerging from the hall. Mia got to her feet to meet her, taking the garment box as the woman held it out to her. "I hope it's in decent condition. I really don't wear them very often, so they just sit around in boxes."

"I'm sure it's wonderful," Mia asserted, nodding graciously, "thank you." With that, she passed the caretaker and continued down the hall to the back room.

"Whatever you're up to," Iris said once Mia was out of earshot, "stop it." Her attention turned to the warriors, who returned a mix of confused expressions and wide eyes.

"We're not doing anything!" Kento defended. Her eyes moved sternly to Ryo, who gave her a light, innocent headshake.

"I'm watching you," she warned.

"And we're watching _them_ ," Sage stated coolly. A brief expression of exasperation passed over her face in response, but she seemed to think better of pursuing the subject and simply shook her head. She turned away and out of the room.

"This'll be fun," Ryo retorted.

"Come on," Cye sighed, "let's make the most of it."

The warriors straightened up as the Warlords joined them. Anubis noted the collective eyes gathered on them and nodded respectfully.

"Are we ready?!" The tiny voice chirped from behind the men and Yuli quickly shuffled into the room. The change in his demeanor was stark; his face was bright and his eyes much more sky blue than the stormy grey they had been as of late. The tension in the room eased a bit and Ryo smiled in spite of himself.

"Almost, buddy," Kento assured him, "we're just waiting on the ladies."

"Just one lady," Mia corrected as she stepped out of the hallway. "I'm ready." She wore a light, summery yukata, secured with a leaf-green obi and patterned with coral roses complementary to her auburn hair. Hair pinned in an elegantly curled side ponytail, she was beautifully radiant, and it did not go unnoticed.

"Wow, Mia," Ryo managed.

"Alright, alright," she said, waving her hand at him dismissively. "We're just waiting on Iris, then, right?"

"Sorry, I always have to reteach myself how to put these on," the caretaker confessed, her voice emanating from the depths of the hall.

"Take your time," Sage called back.

They were not left to wait much longer: Iris emerged from the hallway only moments later. Anubis turned to greet the woman, but suddenly halted as his gaze settled on her. She was dressed in a bright, sunflower yellow yukata, screened with a geometric _asa no ha_ print. True to herself, her purple-and-blue obi belt was patterned with streams of small speckles resembling galaxies in the night sky. Illuminated by the golden yellow of her garment, her eyes seemed to glow from within and her rosy cheeks shimmered.

"Ready?" she asked cheerfully. Noticing the silence she had been greeted with, her smile dropped. "What?"

"Uh, yellow suits you," Cye was quick to cover for his comrades, offering a polite grin in return.

"Well!" Yuli declared, scuttling over to the caretaker, "are we going or not?" Iris laughed and offered her hand down to him.

"Yes, we're going _right now_ ," she assured him.

* * *

" _Whoa_."

The warriors paused on the smooth cobblestone road, gazing up in awe. The market's main street was lined with trees, a canopy of lush, cotton candy pink blanketing its length. Lanterns lined the roadway and dotted the branches, their glow barely visible in the late sun. Vendor carts dispensing snacks and gifts mingled along the sidewalks, with festival attendees excitedly filtering through.

A small smile crept to Anubis's face. It was a familiar feeling, albeit distant and fleeting, brought on by the soft fragrance of cherry blossoms wafting on the breeze. His mind lingered here in this place, and yet somehow in another time simultaneously.

"Miss Iris!" He heard a man's voice approaching through his reverie. It was a robust gentleman who joined them now, black-haired and dressed in a simple navy blue yukata. Sun-tanned skin and calloused hands suggested he was some sort of outdoor laborer, his stout stature certainly a beneficial trait to his trade, and he offered the kindest smile to the woman.

"Hi Yoshiro," Iris said cheerily, bowing respectfully at the waist.

"I have never seen you with so many faces!" He opened his arms wide to gesture to the crowd. "What is all of this about?"

"Family." Her fingers brushed lightly over the top of Anubis's knuckles hanging at his side. The Warlord looked down briefly before lifting his elbow to offer it to her, a gesture she graciously accepted, coiling her arm around his. "In town for my birthday."

"This is quite a family!" Yoshiro's charming, broad grin moved to the warriors, who offered their own smiles in return.

"Tell me about it." Looking back, Iris found an ambivalent expression on Dais's face as he gazed off into the trees, and finally reached her free hand back to take his. His eye dropped first to her fingers curled around his, bronze and in stark contrast to the pale ivory of his own, then shifted up to her before finally looking to their company. "You'll have to excuse the gawking, some of them haven't been to one of these festivals in a while."

Dais smirked a bit. Whether he appreciated the pageantry or not, he had to admit the woman was remarkably clever and quick on her feet.

"Don't let me hold you up!" Yoshiro bowed to them collectively before moving along down the street past them.

As they continued down the roadway, various greetings called out from all sides; vendors and festival attendees alike acknowledged the caretaker, all warm and welcoming and friendly.

"For a hermit, you sure know a lot of these people," Kento remarked as she offered a small wave to a passerby who called out to her.

"Yeah, and they all seem to like you," Sage noted.

"Well, sure," Iris replied, "it's easy to like someone you rarely see."

There was a loud, high-pitched gasp, and the company glanced around to find its source to be Yuli, who had stopped in his tracks in the center of the cobblestone street. Caught off-guard, Iris and Dais nearly toppled over him, saved at the last moment by Iris lifting their joined hands up over his head and using her grasp on Anubis's arm to steady herself.

"What's up, Yuli?" Rowen asked, leaning back just enough to see past his comrades to the boy.

His small hand pointed ahead to a small gathering of men on the side of the street, each with an instrument in hand. His attention focused on a man seated on a stool with an incredibly unusual guitar rested in his lap, its body topped with a sweeping appendage across which the top strings were openly strung.

"The harp-guitar?" Mia asked.

"It's so cool!" Yuli said, his voice laced with awe.

"You want to play it?" Iris asked. The boy's grey-blue eyes shot up to her, wide and round.

"I don't know how to play," he confessed.

"Come on, I'll show you." She released both Anubis's arm and Dais's hand, wiggling her fingers to Yuli.

"Wait, you know how to play that thing?" Rowen inquired, his brow raised.

"I know how to play a lot of things," Iris replied cheekily, a small smile perked on her face. She took Yuli's hand and guided him toward the men.

"We're going to sit down over here!" Ryo called, pointing to the sidewalk where a line of wooden tables had been arranged for festival patrons. Iris motioned in the affirmative over her shoulder before approaching the musicians. From the excited welcome she received, it seemed the band was familiar with her, and after only a brief exchange, the guitarist had relinquished the instrument to her care.

"Man, she really _does_ get around," Cye said, watching her over his shoulder as he took a seat at the table. Anubis chuckled a bit.

"Alright, you guys," Kento started, leaning forward to place his elbows on the table. "You went all the way back to Toyama, and it's obvious you found something out there. So spill."

Ryo, Rowen, Sage and Mia exchanged uneasy glances. When Ryo's gaze shifted across to Dais, the Warlord narrowed his eye in return.

"I suppose you are going to tell me this is not information I should be privy to," he quipped.

"No," Sage said slowly, "actually, you should probably hear this." Dais's silvery brows furrowed in response, Halo's reply clearly not what he was expecting.

"Souls nine forge the bridge," Rowen recited. Intense blue eyes moved across the men in turn. "That's what the legend says."

"Talpa plans to kill us," Sage explained, " _all_ of us." His cool violet eye settled on Dais meaningfully. He received only a pokerface in response. "Once he reunites the armors, he'll purge them of their masters, _including_ his Warlords, and use our life force to build the passage between the Nether Realm and the mortal world."

"Wait, _nine_?" Cye pressed.

"Yeah," Ryo murmured, "about that." He looked to Anubis and his brows furrowed. "Anubis?"

The man's attention was lost across the street, and following it they found him softly fixed on Iris. She was seated now, having taken the guitarist's stool, and was skillfully playing a melody they could only barely hear from the distance. She concluded her song to a small gathering of applause, then proceeded to pluck a single string at a time in demonstration to Yuli, who had taken the seat beside her with a similar instrument and followed along with each movement slowly.

"Yo, ground control to Anubis," Kento declared loudly, breaking through the Warlord's apparent trance.

"I—I am sorry," Anubis managed. He was immediately embarrassed, his eyes dropping to the tabletop and his voice soft.

"Dude," Ryo said, watching him closely, "you are still _crazy_ about her."

"I do not know what that means," Anubis confessed.

"Means you're still in love with her," Rowen offered, setting his chin on his knuckles.

Anubis considered those words quietly, at first focused intently on the Ronin before shifting his gaze across the street again. A weary sigh escaped him. "I believe you are right," he admitted.

"Have you told her?" Cye asked lightly. Seeing the incredulous look he received in response, he offered a small shrug. "I don't know, maybe you should."

"Maybe hold off on that until we figure out how to tell her about her armor," Sage said grimly. His tone was sobering, drawing Anubis's gaze his direction.

"What about her armor?" His brows furrowed, all shame and distraction dissipating.

"The Oblivion isn't in the legend," Mia stated.

"That is impossible," Dais interjected, "even Master Talpa spoke of the Oblivion armor."

"Yeah, well, we haven't figured out where it came from yet," Rowen said, "but it clearly isn't like ours. It isn't mentioned anywhere. Its emblem wasn't even with the others."

The Warlords fell silent, each deep in thought and sifting through a myriad of memories.

"Now that you say it," Anubis said quietly, "Talpa never said it had been his." His tumultuous green eyes looked up to Dais for confirmation.

"No," he affirmed, "he did not." He stared through a distant point on the table before adding, "he said there was another armor. That he had been searching for it, and that the monk would have chosen a very specific master for it. But he never spoke of its origin."

"I don't think the Ancient One was entirely honest about it," Rowen murmured, "with us _or_ Iris."

"We gotta be careful with this," Kento said. "Her whole life has been about protecting that armor. This could really hurt her."

"He's right," Mia agreed, a deep frown etching across her face. "But we have to tell her. She has the right to know."

"Did you see?!" The small voice squealed over the bustling crowd, preceding its owner by several feet. Yuli was practically skipping toward the table, his excitement barely contained and his childish energy tamed only by the firm hold Iris had on his hand. "Mia! Did you see me playing?!"

"He did great, actually," Iris affirmed. Looking down at the boy, she smiled, "I think you could learn to play really well if you wanted." She returned her attention the crew, leaving them little opportunity to interject. "So are you guys just going to sit here all night? Because we're going to go find some junk food."

"I could go for some of that," Kento said.

"And someone owes me some kind of birthday cake," she teased.

"That is right," Anubis agreed, pushing up from the table. "Would ayashirabe be agreeable?"

The word brought the woman pause. She settled her attention on him now, unusually silent and an expression on her face the warriors could not quite place.

"Iris?" Ryo furrowed his brows as he got to his feet. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she managed, breaking her gaze from the Warlord. A soft smile found its way back to her face. "Those are my favorite."

"Well, let's go find you one, then," Cye declared. His eyes moved to Anubis, watching him knowingly as he circled around the table and offered his arm to escort the woman.


	31. Chapter 31: Slaughter

A soft choir of crickets echoed in the darkness. It was a far cry from the bustling, music-filled streets of the town, soothing and comforting in its own unique way. Anubis took a long, slow breath, basking in the warm, earthy scent of the trees as leaves and grass crunched rhythmically underfoot.

"I think you two might have had a _little_ too much."

That voice. It was soft, angelic, and the laugh that came with it filled him with warmth. He looked down to the woman's face, outlined with gold from the flame of the lantern clutched in her fingers. Even in the dimness, he could discern those dark, beautiful eyes. He chuckled softly.

"You must remember when we came from," Anubis remarked, a relaxed smirk finding its way to his lips.

"I know, I know," Iris said, rolling her eyes; still, he could see the smile on her face. "You samurai and your alcohol."

"I hope it was not a detriment to your celebration," he said, as earnestly as he could muster in his hazy mental state.

"Not at all," she assured him. "That was the best birthday I have had in a _very_ long time." Her eyes moved back up to him, "the bean cakes were a nice touch."

Anubis smiled to himself. "Mm, I remember how much you enjoyed them. You would have eaten them every day if you could have." He paused in thought. "And Aimi loved making them for you."

"Aimi," Iris said slowly, her voice laced with awe and nostalgia, "wow. I haven't thought about her in centuries." She shook her head a bit, "you remember that after all this time?"

"It is not that impressive," he insisted, "remember, my days have been longer, not numerous. It has been only a few years for me, however prolonged they are."

"Still, it's very flattering," Iris confessed, "for someone to remember something so trivial about you. After any length of time."

"Doubtful I am the only one to recall such things," Anubis said. His voice was wistful. "I am sure you have had other lovers in that time who remember things I never even knew about you."

"What?" The tone of her voice was sobering: stern, stunned, and perhaps a bit offended. He clenched his mouth shut for a moment before speaking again, his words cautious as he proceeded.

"I am sorry, was that inappropriate?"

A silent beat followed, then was finally broken by a small, awkward laugh. Iris waved her hand a bit, silhouetted against the light of the lantern.

"No, it's fine," she dismissed, "I just—" She trailed off to take a slow, deep breath, shaking her head a bit. "I haven't, actually." Anubis furrowed his brows and his gaze shifted down to her.

"No one?"

"Nope."

"Why not?

"Haven't been looking," she offered a half-hearted shrug.

"You were not looking for me, either," he noted.

"That's true." She looked forward into the darkness. "But then, I guess no one quite like you has come along again." The statement brought a long pause, punctuated only by the light sound of their feet as they treaded through the forest. Iris chewed at her lip for a moment before attempting to break the uncomfortable silence, "what about you? Handsome, strong young man, I'm sure you could have anyone you wanted."

Anubis cleared his throat, suddenly grateful for the cover of night concealing the heat rising in his cheeks. "No. There are no other humans in the Nether Realm."

"That's not true," Iris countered. "There's Dais, and Sekhmet, Cale—"

"The other Warlords," Anubis interjected, his brow perked. "Are you suggesting we would have taken each other as—"

" _No_ ," Iris stumbled, clapping her hand to her face. She could feel the heat radiating from her skin now, "just—" Her hand rubbed down her features before gesturing exasperatedly. "You said there were no other humans in the Nether World, I was just saying, there were at least the four of you."

"Yes, well, we hardly qualify as human," Anubis muttered.

"Do you really feel that way?"

The Warlord halted in his path, and she followed suit. His mind was sharp again, and he took a long, weary breath.

"What I have done," he stated, "to you, to humanity. There are millions of souls trapped in the Dynasty, their anguish on my hands. Centuries ago, I killed without remorse, and left you to a fate worse than death for my own ambitions." His voice lowered, full of guilt and shame. "I was always a monster."

"I don't agree with you." Her voice was firm, and looking down he found her eyes fixated on him, unrelenting and fierce. "You were a lot of things. You were selfish, and greedy, and impatient. But you were never a monster."

Anubis gazed back at her through the darkness for a long, silent moment. Quietly, he took the lantern from her hand, and dropped it unceremoniously into the grass, taking her freed fingers into his.

"Iris, there is something I must tell you." There was gravity in his tone and he turned to face her now, gently drawing her closer. It seemed as though his heart had leapt into his throat, a furiously throbbing lump threatening to rob him of speech and pounding in his ears with deafening intensity.

"Okay." Her voice was cautious, uncertain. His stomach flopped over on itself before plummeting to the depths of his insides as her face contorted. He recognized the expression there now: worry, with an overwhelming overtone of dread. Her breath was arrested ever slightly in her chest, every fiber of her body hung with anticipation. He could only imagine what she was thinking. He wanted desperately to draw her into his arms, to reassure her, but refrained, instead cupping both of her hands tenderly in his.

"I still love you." He swallowed hard, but it did nothing to relieve the tightness in his throat. The terrified expression drained from Iris's face, leaving hesitance and shock in its wake. "I do not expect that to be reciprocated," he insisted. "But you deserved to know."

Iris's lips parted as if preparing to speak, but no words escaped her. Finally, she took a breath, but just as she did so, a loud, furious roar reverberated through the trees and drew their attention to the sound.

"That was White Blaze." Her brows furrowed and she glanced back to Anubis. The Warlord wasted no time, starting off toward the house with her hand still clutched in his.

Emerging from the trees, they found a haunting silhouette among the graves. White Blaze's white form was distinct in the moonlight, his body stretched and his teeth bared. He was growling with terrifying ferocity at a shadowy presence lurking in the tombstones.

"Here, kitty, kitty," a deep, low voice hissed.

"Cats don't like snakes," Iris stated coldly. The dark presence shifted and turned to face her now, and as the moonlight flooded its face, heavily-lidded beady eyes appeared through the shadowy mask of dark green armor. She turned her head to peer over her shoulder into the black woods behind her. "Or dogs."

"Is that so?" A malicious cackle answered, and booming footsteps trampled the grass as the man emerged from the trees. Anubis turned to settle his eyes on Cale as Iris's gaze moved back to focus on Sekhmet. The Warlord snarled, "the traitor still lives."

The house remained silent, though its inhabitants had been signaled to the discord in the graveyard by the cat's mighty roar. Five armored forms crept through the open front door without a sound, infiltrating the yard unnoticed in the darkness. Finally, Ryo took his place beside White Blaze, who roared again to bring their opponents to attention.

"Ah, Ronins, so glad you could join us," Sekhmet taunted, "perhaps this time it will be more of a fight than a slaughter." His eyes set directly on Ryo and a long, mocking chuckle escaped him. Ryo drew his katanas and crossed them in front of himself in defense.

"If you think you stand a chance against all of us, you've got another thing coming," Ryo barked. Sekhmet's laughter only grew louder.

The malevolent cackling was suddenly cut short as another figure appeared on the porch. All eyes shifted across the yard to the house to find Dais, standing in bare feet at the very top of the stairs. He almost seemed to glow in the dusk, moonlight illuminating the silvery waves framing his thin ivory face. A cold, steel blue eye came to rest on the Warlords in silence.

"Dais." Sekhmet's voice was laced with astonishment. "You are alive." His gaze trailed down the man, noting his lean form. "Master Talpa will be pleased to learn of your survival."

"Oh, you are so full of _shit_ ," Iris declared angrily, her composure cracking. "Talpa knows he didn't die. He's known all along."

Dais remained silent. His piercing gaze shifted from Iris to Sekhmet with a neutral, unreadable expression. Cale stepped closer to the man, his path deliberate; the warriors drew their weapons and fixed them between the men, and Anubis took a defensive stance.

"Come now, you know better than that," Cale insisted, his sight zeroed in on Dais. "You don't trust this _wretched woman_ over Master Talpa, do you?"

"He doesn't have to." Iris's eyes met Dais in the dark. "He's smart enough to figure it out on his own."

"Dais," Sekhmet said firmly, "your armor can be returned to you."

"Yes," Cale agreed. "Master Talpa has been waiting for you. All you must do is return to the Dynasty with us, and you will have your armor."

The Warlord of Illusion took a careful step down the porch stairs toward them. His movements were slow, measured, and as he drew nearer to them his eye narrowed.

"Tell me," Dais drawled, "how is it Talpa has been waiting for me, if he did not know I had survived?"

There was a tense beat, and Cale's eyes narrowed into a searing glare. But just as quickly as the silence fell, it was disturbed. A brilliant flash of light, mere fractions of a second in duration, glinted through the darkness, accompanied by a strange, unearthly warbling. A second cry cut over the sound, anguished and chilling and immediately recognizable as human.

Dais was paralyzed. His breath hung in his chest, a loud, echoing ringing blaring in his ears, drowning out the horrified commotion surrounding him. He stared ahead into the empty face mask of a dark grey-green suit of armor, a haunting pair of soulless eyes gleaming out from the void within it. A soldier, one of Talpa's minions, armed with a spear. His eye trailed to its hands, then down the weapon's shaft.

Dais's mind whirled as a diminutive, warm body slumped back into his. Iris struggled to stay on her feet against him, her fingers clenched around the spear's shaft and wrestling to wrench it away from the soldier's grasp. Her efforts failed; the soldier tore the weapon back and out of her yielding flesh, drawing another tortured cry from the woman as she clamped her hand to her chest.

" _Iris_!" Anubis's voice betrayed every emotion piercing him now: horror, grief, rage.

Dais planted his hands on the caretaker's shoulders to steady her, but her legs gave way and her knees buckled beneath her. He drew her back firmly against his body as he lowered to the ground, her limbs slacking into his lap. Through the darkness, he saw streaks of crimson rapidly spreading through the fibers of her yukata, like webs crawling from beneath her clenched fist. He hardly noticed Anubis and the armored form of Rowen as they clamored to his sides, their hands desperately reaching for her.

Wordlessly, he surrendered her to the men and got to his feet, his deadly gaze settled on the soldier still standing before him. It took a second jab at the Warlord with its bloodied spear, an attack that was easily dodged. Dais grabbed the weapon's shaft tight in both fists and wrenched it from the soldier's hands, passing over Iris, Anubis, and Rowen like a wraith and driving the spear through the minion's chest. It screeched as black smoke poured from its wound before the empty armor dissolved, crumbling away into the grass.

Dais's cold eye met Cale and Sekhmet from under his brow. There was an unfamiliar expression on Sekhmet's face now. His beady eyes were wide, hairless brow furrowed, lips agape. He seemed fixated on a point behind his former comrade, his face betraying shock. The serpent did not even appear to be breathing, his swords clutched in paralyzed hands. Moving to Cale, however, he found something else entirely. He was amused. A delighted, deranged smirk had curled under his mask. And as his eye settled on the sneer, Dais felt his blood come to a boil.

"Consider this my answer," he growled. He lunged for the Warlord of Corruption, confiscated weapon aimed at the ready. Cale jabbed his claw into the air to catch the spear's head and shoved Dais away.

Anubis drew Iris's collar down her shoulder, gently urging her to release the fabric from her clenched fingers. The cloth peeled away to reveal a large wound, almost round with a ragged perimeter. Her breath had become short and laborious, and with each breath blood bubbled through the tissue with a gurgling sound.

"Sucking wound," Rowen assessed, "it hit her lung."

The statement caused a fleeting moment of panic to streak across Iris's face. Wide brown eyes met Anubis's, and she reached trembling fingers up to press against the flesh, causing a painful cough. She ducked her face into the crook of the Warlord's arm.

"Don't close your eyes," Anubis managed, his hand coming to rest against her face, "look at me."

Dais hit the ground painfully, thrusting the spear up into the air for protection while he recovered. Ryo raised his swords over his head, his voice echoing through the ancient graves.

" _Flare Up Now_!"

Beneath his battle cry, three more voices called out into the darkness simultaneously.

"Iron Rock Crusher!"

"Super Wave Smasher!"

"Thunderbolt Cut!"

The cemetery flooded with warmth and light, and thunderous roaring tore through the night. When the light and dust cleared, the Warlords had vanished, and the spear Dais still clutched shattered into fragments in the grass.

The warriors turned their attention to the house, hurrying back to rendezvous with Rowen and Anubis.

"Is she—" Kento's voice trembled ever slightly.

"Not yet." There was urgency in Rowen's voice and he got to his feet, "but she will be if we don't act fast." He started up the porch stairs. "I need something that doesn't breathe, plastic wrap or even a latex glove if she has one somewhere, and the strongest adhesive you can find."

The men disarmed and clamored into the house as Anubis collected Iris in his arms. He got to his feet slowly, cradling her close and trudging up the stairs behind them.

Dais climbed to his feet, lingering several steps behind. He watched Anubis disappear into the house, Iris's socked feet dangling over his arm. Finally, he stumbled numbly up the stairs after them.


	32. Chapter 32: Common Ground

_Talpa plans to kill us._ All _of us._

Dais stood silently in the doorway. His body was numb, his mind racing. Cye gently pushed past him with a heap of folded sheets clutched in his arms, hurrying to Iris's bed and teaming up with Kento spread them across it.

The Warlord watched Anubis as he tenderly brought Iris to rest on the bed. Her fingers remained firmly pressed against her chest, her face broken out in a cold sweat and rapidly losing color. She was struggling to breathe, long, choppy breaths that caused her entire body to shudder.

A nervousness had settled on the warriors as Rowen and Sage hunted supplies. Ryo stood in the hallway to block Yuli from proceeding further, and the boy was whimpering protests. There was a quiet female voice underneath his, Mia clearly doing her best to assist Ryo with the child.

Dais took a long, resolving breath and settled into his mind, blocking out the panicked chaos in his surroundings. It had all happened so quickly. That vicious look in Cale's eyes flashed through his mind again. Bright light, and within it, a dark shadow. Then, a trilling, hollow wail.

And there it was. A soldier emerging from the void before him. Its sight was on its target before it had even materialized, and there was no avoiding it in his recollection now: _he_ was the target. The minion took aim directly at his heart and drove forward.

His consciousness returned abruptly to the present as Rowen shoved by him. The Ronin sat down on his knees at Iris's bedside, dropping the supplies he had collected at his side. He had what appeared to be the plastic wrapping from some food item, washed of debris, which he noisily outstretched.

"Sorry, Iris," Rowen stated, "it's all we've got right now."

"What are you doing?" Anubis's voice was low and calm, but his face betrayed him, his brows furrowed, deep lines crawling through his forehead.

"The lungs are normally a closed system," Rowen replied, "air only goes in and comes out through the airways. But a wound like this is an easier path, so air enters through it instead."

"So basically, she's breathing through the wound." Sage's contribution was stoic and resolute.

"Right. But lungs don't work like that. So we've got to patch it to close it so she can breathe. She obviously knows a thing or two about sucking wounds," he noted, nodding to the woman's hand still firmly pushed against her flesh. "She's closing it as best she can until we can get it sealed." He pulled the plastic wrap tight and brought it close over her chest. "On the count of three. You ready?" His eyes met Iris's and she nodded silently. "One. Two. Three." She drew her fingers away and he swiftly pressed the plastic tight against the wound; she closed her eyes and pushed her head back into the floor in pain. "Anubis, hold this down so I can tape it."

The man quickly obeyed, reaching forward to press both hands tight against the plastic sheet. Iris's trembling, bloodied fingers slowly crawled up to rest on his knuckles, and he noticed immediately the icy chill lingering in their tips.

Strata was swift in his work, securing the wrap to the injury and sealing it. Anubis's hand lingered against the woman's chest, her own palm resting lightly on top of it. Her next breath came slowly, and a crackling sound escaped her, followed by a forceful cough that tinged her lips with blood. Her chest fell and lingered empty for several moments before slowly rising again.

Anubis looked up to Rowen briefly, finding an empathetic expression that settled heavily on his heart. Strata lingered for a moment before getting to his feet. As he headed for the door, he exchanged a meaningful glance with Sage, Cye, and Kento, and they quickly acknowledged him and followed on his heels.

Dais's eye did not move to meet any of the men as they passed. He loitered in the doorway, watching quietly as Anubis remained in silence. Finally, the Warlord stepped into the room and slinked to the bed, slowly lowering to his knees opposite his former comrade.

Looking down to the woman, he found her improvised dressing caving in ever slightly with each breath. Its transparency left the wound underneath visible, and Dais took a long moment to examine it. Dark mottling permeated the flesh, traces of a Nether World poison that laced every minion's spear. The location seemed strange at first glance, several inches above her heart and not immediately fatal as such a strike should have been. But just as quickly as this analysis crossed his mind, another rose to meet it: Iris was much shorter than him.

He glanced up to find Anubis's gaze set firmly on him. A strange sensation jabbed at him now. Guilt? He couldn't be sure. But as he attempted to find the strength to speak, no words came to mind.

Something faintly brushed against his knee, stark and startling in the tension. Dais looked down to find Iris's hand resting on the floor with its fingers outstretched, gently poking at him. Moving his gaze to her face, two dark eyes peered out at him through the slivers of barely-open lids. He was slow to respond, but finally, awkwardly, he reached out to take her wiggling fingers into his.

"Why." The Warlord's statement was cold and demanding. He watched her eyes close and her chest rise and fall, and she lingered in this flat, still state. After what seemed like an eternity, her chest rose again.

"Because your life doesn't matter to Talpa." Her words were weak. Iris cracked her eyes open again, and he felt her hand give his a feeble squeeze. "But it _does_ matter." Dark eyes drifted shut and her remaining breath escaped in an exhausted sigh. After several arduous breaths, it seemed she had either fallen into sleep or unconsciousness; her body relaxed and her head slowly settled to one side.

Dais waited for a long moment in silence, though for what, exactly, was not clear. Just as abruptly as he had taken his seat, he got to his feet and wordlessly left Anubis alone in the hushed room.

The Ronins were seated around the dining table in a tense stillness, illuminated by two small lanterns placed on the tabletop. All eyes moved up as the man entered, his footsteps barely perceivable. He drifted to the table and, waiting for no invitation, took a seat, golden flames dancing off his silvery-white curls.

"Rough night, huh," Ryo said finally, breaking the awkward hush that had befallen the table. Dais's cold eye shifted to meet him, his gaze harsh and pokerface unreadable.

"Talpa made a fool of me," the Warlord drawled, his voice laced with venom. "I served him loyally, and he would have me slain by a _brainless minion_." There was a dangerous flash in his steely eye and his fists clenched.

"That seems to be his MO," Sage remarked coolly.

"It's just like we told you." Rowen frowned. "All Talpa cares about is your armor. And now that he has it, he just wants your soul to build this bridge the legend talked about."

"I will _not_ be a sacrificial lamb to the Dynasty," Dais snapped.

"So what now?" Kento asked seriously. The man met his gaze uncertainly. "You stayin' here?"

Cye exchanged a furtive glance with Ryo. As gazes bounced around the table, first to Kento, then to Dais, and finally back to Hardrock, the man slowly offered his hand to the Warlord.

"You know what they say?" Hardrock asked. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend." Dais stared at the rough, tanned hand extended to him as he considered those words.

And slowly, he reached out to grasp it.


	33. Chapter 33: Suspicion

Haunting purple flames danced on ivory candlesticks against the blackness, though he merely stared through them. His mind was silent, empty, and an uneasy feeling settled heavy in his chest.

 _Your life is at stake here_.

Sekhmet closed his eyes, trying to purge the words from his thoughts. But in the darkness of his closed lids, violent images splashed across them instead: a blood-curdling scream and a flash of bright, furious scarlet.

It should have been a triumph. A step closer to reclaiming the Oblivion armor. Closer to glory. But it filled the Warlord with a hollow, cold dread. That death strike was not intended for the Oblivion's keeper.

 _Come to me, Warlords_.

The chilling voice cut through his thoughts. He made no move to comply. The candle flames quivered and then extinguished.

 _Sekhmet, my Warlord of Venom_. _I trust you are not ignoring me_.

He pursed his lips into a fine line and took a deep breath. Finally, he vanished into the shadows.

The blue flames of the throne room candles shivered in the wake of his arrival. He saw the vivid crimson underarmor of Cale out of the corner of his eye, though he made no effort to formally acknowledge him.

"You are late," Talpa growled, his ghostly visage materializing ahead.

"My deepest apologies, Master." Sekhmet offered a respectful bow, his fist pressed to his chest. "I was contemplating the unusual turn of our recent battle."

"Yes," the emperor agreed, "it seems we have another defector. I am most disappointed, but Dais has chosen the mortal world. An unwise decision. Without his armor, he will be easily taken care of."

"Master Talpa, he is powerless against us now. I do not see why his death is necessary." Sekhmet's face betrayed no emotion despite the brevity of his words.

"Dais is a traitor," Cale snarled, "death is the sentence he has earned."

"I said nothing of death," Talpa snapped. "Our strategy must change in light of this turn of events. I want Dais brought to me alive. Anubis as well."

The statement brought Sekhmet pause. An icy cold chill crawled down his spine and his beady eyes moved up to the demon.

"Alive, sire?" Cale's voice reflected his confusion.

"Yes," he replied, "I have a new plan for dealing with the traitors." He waited for a moment, observing the unusual silence of his subordinates. "Are you questioning my orders?"

"No, master," Sekhmet managed, bowing again. The ghostly form vanished from the throne room, causing the candles to tremble in his exit. The Warlord lingered in silence before straightening back up and turning his back, his eyes dodging his comrade as he took his leave.

He could hear the footsteps behind him, though he did his best to ignore them. It was as he entered his room and the steps followed that he turned his head over his shoulder to fire a venomous glare at his pursuer. Cale was only a few short strides behind him, his ferocious eyes unyielding.

"Those were bold words against our emperor." The man halted just inside the doorway, effectively blocking the passage.

"I feel Master Talpa's strategies are becoming more erratic," Sekhmet replied coolly. He swiftly lit the candles lining a small altar, casting an eerie purple illumination in the room. "Like a frantic mouse."

"You watch your tongue," Cale growled.

"Why has he suddenly changed his intentions?" Sekhmet turned to face him now. "Why does he want Dais alive, after his attempt to kill him failed?" His voice lowered, "he was so quick to try. And yet now he wants him spared."

"I am sure he has a good reason."

"I am not."

"Where is this insubordination coming from?" Cale snarled.

"You are not concerned by how swiftly our lord's favor has changed?" The Warlord of Venom furrowed his brow. "He hardly gave Dais an opportunity to redeem himself."

"He is _undeserving_ of redemption. A swift death would have been more than generous. Perhaps now he will receive the sentence his treachery truly deserves." A wicked sneer crawled across his face. "That girl believed she was protecting him, but she only prolonged his suffering."

"Yes," Sekhmet hissed, "she was quick to risk her life for his."

There was a tone in the man's voice that brought Cale's blood to a boil. A strange, unmistakable tinge of reverence hinted at the thoughts swirling under Venom's surface.

"Because she is a _fool_ ," he snarled. "He would never have done the same for her."

"Just as we would not do the same for one another." The reply was curt and cold.

"I will hear no more of this!" Cale roared. "That wretched wench does not even deserve to be counted among the Ronin scum, much less be spoken of in the halls of our master!"

"Say what you will about the girl," Sekhmet said finally, his voice low. He turned his back to his comrade and knelt to his knees among the altar candles, leaving the man to seethe in fury behind him. "She has the heart of a warrior."


	34. Chapter 34: Alliance

Silence.

It was what had dominated the room for three days, save for an occasional murmur or the warm, steady chuffing of White Blaze. The tiger had been a steady visitor, gently nudging at the caretaker's face and hands and napping close at her side. Presently, he was wide awake, watching her with unwavering eyes.

"She's going to be okay, right, Mia?"

Anubis's eyes flitted across the bed to Yuli. His sweet, round blue eyes were muddled with grey, his brow knotted in worry. He had Iris's hand clutched desperately in his small fingers, though they offered no return of the gesture. Mia's gaze met the Warlord's and she frowned.

"I'm afraid we don't know yet, Yuli," she said tenderly.

A painful truth. But Iris had shown no signs of waking, and her condition had rapidly declined. Golden skin was now pale and sallow, her lips an ashy grey. Her eyes, unmoving, were slowly settling, purple discoloration spreading beneath them. She looked hollow, and her breaths were weak, slow, and scant. Her fingers had been overtaken by a chilling cold.

"You have to be okay, Iris, you _have_ to be," Yuli declared, gently squeezing the woman's ghastly hand. "The Ronins need you."

Anubis closed his eyes. They burned against the inside of his lids, sore and tired. He reached up to press his fingers into his shoulder and stretched his neck.

"Come on, we need to let her rest." Mia set her hand on the boy's shoulder, and though he was hesitant, he conceded with little fuss, bringing Iris's hand to rest at her side and getting to his feet. Mia ushered him quietly to the door and gently shooed him outside before turning back.

"Anubis?"

The tenderness with which she spoke his name pulled his attention away from his aching shoulders and he looked up.

"Maybe you should let me watch over her for a while," Mia continued, "so you can take a break. Get something to eat and freshen up."

"Is that a very polite way of telling me I smell foul?" Anubis mused. The woman offered a sheepish smile.

"It's not _that_ bad," she assured him. He chuckled a bit and rubbed at the back of his neck. Truly, he had not realized how exhausted he was.

"I am sure you are right," he admitted. The man climbed to his knees, reaching over to offer White Blaze a gentle ear scratch before standing up and starting for the door. He paused in his path and turned back to see Mia seating herself at Iris's side. "If she wakes up—"

"I will tell her _exactly_ where you are," she promised.

Satisfied, Anubis turned out of the bedroom. White Blaze watched after him for a long moment, then quietly he nudged at Iris's shoulder. Receiving nothing in response, he wedged his nose under her arm and diligently rooted his head under her.

"White Blaze, I don't think—" Mia leaned over to reach for him. The tiger offered a short, growling huff in response, and seeing the fierce look he shot her direction, she relented and sat back on her knees. "Alright, alright." She watched as White Blaze successfully wormed his way under Iris to elevate her head and torso, then settled down and curled up with the woman laid safely in the curve of his body.

Approaching the living area, Anubis heard the familiar din of conversation, and his footsteps slowed to listen.

"Nothing at all?" Kento's voice lacked its usual spark.

"Hasn't even opened her eyes," came Cye's forlorn reply.

The small gathering of eyes lifted to meet Anubis as he made his presence known, standing quietly just within the perimeter of the room. He immediately noticed the melancholy that settled on the men and he frowned.

"She has not improved," he confirmed grimly.

"What about you?" Rowen asked. "How are _you_ doing?"

The earnestness of his tone halted Anubis's thoughts and persuaded him to consider the question. Instead of the half-hearted, optimistic reply he was initially compelled to offer, a long, heavy sigh escaped him, and he closed his eyes wearily.

"Exhausted," he confessed. "Remorseful."

"This _isn't_ your fault," Ryo insisted.

"I should have protected her," Anubis lamented. He stopped, his brow furrowed. "But it happened so quickly. As if she knew what was coming before it happened."

"Yeah, we noticed that, too," Sage remarked slowly. "In Toyama. When you guys showed up, she knew exactly where you'd be, seconds before you were there."

"Come to think of it," Ryo stated, "it happened in Aokigahara, too. She knew exactly where Cale was. I thought it was just because she could see where he was hiding, but now I wonder if she knew he would be there before he even showed up."

Anubis stepped up to the table to join them, sinking down to seat himself.

"And you said the Oblivion is not in the armor's legend."

"Mia brought the book with her. We can look again, but I'm telling you, its emblem wasn't in there," Sage replied.

"Then where might it have come from? And why is it so powerful?"

Sage and Rowen exchanged serious glances, spurring their comrades' interest. Cye and Kento leaned in to listen and Anubis's attention settled fully on Rowen.

"Maybe it was the Ancient's armor," Rowen said. Seeing the uncertainty in the Warlord's face, he continued, "look, he defeated Talpa the first time, didn't he? So his power rivaled Talpa's, and Talpa's armor was made up of _all_ of ours. The Ancient One told us the Oblivion could defeat all of the nine armors together."

"And he has some level of omnipresence," Sage added. "Which the Oblivion also seems to have. There's no other way Iris could have beat us to Aokigahara, or intervened between Dais and that soldier. It's almost like she can teleport."

Anubis nodded slowly.

"And what of Dais?"

"I guess he plans on hanging around," Kento responded, "not sure what good he's gonna be without his armor, though."

"Dais's alliance should not be underestimated," Anubis noted. "He is a brilliant strategist, and he knows the layout of the Nether Realm even better than I do."

Mia caught glimpse of a figure in the corner of her eye. Certain it was Anubis returning, she raised up on her knees and prepared to leave. As she did so, however, she looked up to find the frightening countenance of Dais lurking in the doorway. He was observing the room with a steely cold eye, his expressionless face cast in stone.

"She is still unresponsive," he stated.

"Yes, I'm afraid so." Mia shifted uncomfortably. His presence made her nervous, but he lingered only a moment longer. Wordlessly, he turned back out of the room, and she settled back down on her knees in relief.

The room fell into silence as Dais entered. He was quick to scan the men seated at the table, and a small hint of a sneer crept to his face.

"Where is Anubis?" he asked.

"Taking a bath," Rowen spoke up. The Warlord offered no further conversation, continuing his path through the living area and into the kitchen. Strata glanced over at Kento, who merely rolled his eyes in response.

Dais had quickly familiarized himself with the house, though it had admittedly been an easy task; Iris lived much like he had, both in the mortal world centuries ago and now in the Nether Realm. Coal and wood for heating, an ice box to keep food, lanterns for light. He was not a stranger to modern convenience, and his knowledge of such things as electricity was actually rather extensive, but there was something oddly comforting to be found in the simplicity of life without it. He kindled the coal in the stove before placing the kettle atop it.

He stood in silence as the kettle warmed and tea brewed. Noticing footsteps behind him, Dais turned his head to glance over his shoulder. Anubis joined him now, wet tendrils of auburn hair clinging to his face from underneath the towel he had draped over his head. The Warlord of Illusion returned his attention to the stove and removed a cup from the cabinet.

"Enough for both of us?" Anubis questioned. Dais looked at him seriously for moment.

"Yes," he conceded, reaching for a second cup. He poured both full before offering one to his company and then picking up his own.

"Allies again." Anubis sipped at his tea briefly.

"It would seem so," Dais replied coolly. He watched the man closely now, allowing the hush to settle between them. It was a long moment before he spoke again, his voice low and careful. "I am sorry. For what happened to her." Anubis closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"She is a good woman." His eyes opened, though he could not bring himself to look up from his cup.

"Yes, she is," Dais agreed. "And if she survives, I will not allow it to happen again."

Anubis looked up to meet Dais's gaze. He had always maintained a calm, unreadable visage, but now there was an unmistakable flash of vengeance and gravity in his eye.

"We cannot allow the Dynasty to take over this realm," Anubis stated. "We have all risked and lost too much to let this world fall. Talpa must not win." His comrade nodded solemnly in response, and his voice reflected the weight of his resolve as he spoke.

"He will not."


	35. Chapter 35: Debt

Anubis was uncertain of exactly when he had last slept, but as he sat in the soft light of the bedroom lantern, he was sure the insomnia was taking its toll. His entire body chattered as he yawned and his eyes struggled to remain open. For days he had been fueled by worry, but that had finally descended into stress, and unlike the restless energy brought on by the former, stress simply exhausted him.

He glimpsed the night sky through the window. It was hours until dawn, and no one else was awake to occupy him. Looking again to Iris, and finding no hint of change in her motionless state, he stretched out across the wooden floor beside her, tucked his arm under his head, and allowed his eyes to drift shut and his mind to quiet into darkness.

A cool sensation trickled across his temple, vaguely stirring him from sleep. At first, he suspected it was a renegade breeze, but as his awareness grew, he acknowledged it as a single point trailing along his skin. Its temperature made it difficult to decipher – a drop of water, perhaps? He slowly cracked his eyes open, a small yawn crawling past his lips.

Peering through the dim lighting, Anubis's gaze settled on Iris. Her head was lying on its side now, and through the faint flickering of the dying lantern flame, he saw them clearly: golden-flecked eyes, barely open, gazing back at him. The sight skyrocketed his mind into crystal clear alertness and he reached up to find the chill at his temple was her icy knuckles, gently brushing at his face. He clasped the cold hand in his.

" _Iris_ ," Anubis gasped.

"You really shouldn't fall asleep with the lantern still burning." Her voice cracked, its hoarseness reflecting days of disuse. Had the moment not felt so suffocatingly serious, he would have laughed; the statement was decidedly like her usual self.

Anubis inched closer, propping up on one elbow. Unable to contain his exultation, he reached out to cup her head tenderly in both hands. His thumb traced softly over her temple to move stray hairs out of her eyes, and as he did so he saw the groggy smile that cracked across her face.

"You are alright," he breathed. The compulsion to kiss that sweet face was strong, but he fought to quell it, easing his mind with how content she seemed to be to let her head simply rest in his fingers.

"Yeah," Iris confirmed, nodding her head, "I'm okay." She took a long, slow breath, the deepest she had taken in days. Her hand came to rest on his forearm, still clammy and stiff, but he was grateful for the gesture. "Anubis."

There was a heaviness to her voice, one that extended beyond the strenuousness of speaking after days of silence. He looked down to find her eyes keenly focused on him now, and she seemed to be searching his eyes for the words she was struggling to find. It felt like an eternity before her lips parted to speak again.

"I still love you."

Anubis's heart arrested in his chest and his brow furrowed. Perhaps she was not as lucid as he thought. He offered the slightest shaking of his head.

"You are still unwell," he remarked, "you are not thinking clearly—"

"No, no, _listen_." She shook her head a bit, her voice still weak but insistent. "I don't want to. I wish I didn't. I should hate you, after all that's happened."

"Yes, that would be justified," Anubis agreed regretfully.

"But I don't." Iris's lips quivered, and in the dim light he saw the sparkle of tears welling in her bleary eyes. She pursed her lips together, her breath again short and wheezing. "I _can't_ , that's how I know—"

"Shh, easy," he cooed, his hand stroking over her hair soothingly.

"Please stay with me," she whimpered. His eyes did not budge from hers, and first he reached his thumb to clear away the tears clinging to her lashes before cradling the soft crown of dark hair in his palm.

"I promise," Anubis murmured, "I will never leave you again."

The assurance seemed to pacify her, and she let her eyes flutter closed, though there was still a heart-wrenching expression of knitted brows etched on her face. Finally, he resolved himself to draw closer, shifting onto the bed with her and taking her diminutive body into his arms. Her face nestled quietly against his collar, and he closed his eyes as he allowed his jaw to come to rest against the top of her head.

* * *

Light filtered in through the window, the chirping of small, flitting birds singing just outside.

Shifting, Anubis found a weight snugly preventing his movement. He groggily cracked his eyes open to find Iris still secured in his arms, her head rested against his chest. For a moment he could have questioned where he was, in this place so reminiscent of another life with a woman so much the same.

It was a fleeting feeling, as his eyes quickly caught glimpse of the bloodied dressing on her chest that reminded him she was not quite the same anymore. As he shifted again, preparing to get up, he saw something in the corner of his eye that drew his attention to the doorway, and his blood ran cold.

Cye lurked in place, his mouth open as if he had approached intending to say something, but the words had now been lost. It was clear from his stance that he had come to check on the caretaker, and the halt in his steps indicated his astonishment at what he was seeing. It was an image Anubis did not want to envision, one that conjured many unflattering scenarios; ultimately, he was still a Warlord, unchivalrous at best, and it would not be unreasonable for Torrent to suspect he had salaciously preyed on the woman's vulnerability.

Unable to muster any words for the man, Anubis watched as he put his hands up in a small, retreating gesture before turning around and proceeding down the hallway. He felt immediately ashamed, and quietly he moved Iris out of his arms to rest fully on her pillow. Her skin was still cool to the touch, but she had visibly improved, and the clammy sweat that had lingered on her face for the last several days had finally dissipated. There was a pang of guilt as he brushed a few unruly strands of wild hair down and her words from the previous night echoed in his mind.

Anubis got to his feet slowly to avoid disturbing her, and as he made his way to the door, White Blaze strolled in to greet him. The beast bunted his head against his leg, making certain to rub the entire length of his body along his knee for good measure as he passed.

"Your turn, is it?" the Warlord inquired. White Blaze slinked to the bed and promptly planted himself beside the woman, his breath escaping in a loud, rolling chuff. Anubis shook his head a bit and turned back out to leave.

He was hit with the scent of roasting meat as he entered the living area. The house was empty, it seemed; a glance out the front door revealed the Ronins collected on the porch. Hoping to bypass interaction, he ducked into the kitchen, mentally cursing as he found the abode was not entirely empty as he thought. Cye stood at the stove, the source of the delectable aroma wafting through the halls.

"I'm making plenty, if you're hungry." Torrent's voice was nonchalant, and he made no move to look over his shoulder in acknowledgment.

"Allow me to help you," Anubis offered, joining him at the stove. Cye glanced up at him before motioning across to the countertop.

"You can cut the potatoes," he suggested. He watched for a long moment as the man gathered a knife and dutifully took to the vegetable. Returning his attention to the roast pan, he poked at the loin. "So how is she?" He caught the slight bristle his question caused in his company out of the corner of his eye.

"She is improving," Anubis replied. "She woke up last night, in fact." He noticed Cye's attention turn to him again. "Very briefly."

"Is that when you—" Torrent trailed off uncertainly. The Warlord's throat tightened and he struggled down a dry swallow.

"I do not know what you think you saw," Anubis stated, "but I assure you, it was nothing unchaste."

"I didn't think it was. I mean, you were both—dressed." Cye rubbed awkwardly at his neck for a moment. He saw the tense, chagrined expression on Anubis's face and frowned. "You don't have to defend yourself against me. I believe you."

"Thank you for that," Anubis managed quietly.

"Did she say anything?"

"Nothing that made any sense." He stumbled over the words, unwilling to lie to the man but certainly unprepared to discuss the truth.

Before Cye could inquire further, a thunderous roar tore through the house. He pulled the pan off the stove, and both men scrambled out of the kitchen to find the other warriors clambering inside. Anubis was the first down the hall, Cye close on his heels and their other companions in turn.

The Warlord's breath escaped in a long, relieved sigh as he entered the doorway. His company was far less graceful, piling up behind him and Kento nearly knocking the entire crew down like bowling pins as he skid to a stop from his sprint.

"Are you proud of yourself?" Iris was sitting up cross-legged now, speaking to White Blaze who was rubbing the full side of his body against her back and excitedly nuzzling at her shoulder. He flopped on his side and whipped his tail against the wood floor. She gestured at the doorway. "You've got the _whole house_ in an uproar!"

" _Iris_!" It was a tiny voice that erupted over the commotion, and Yuli wormed his way through the men to scramble to her. He practically leapt into her arms, throwing his own around her neck in a hug. Though she happily received the boy, the force of his body brought on a wet, painful cough.

"Easy, _easy_ , Yuli," she cautioned, her fingertips gently tapping at the plastic dressing peeking over her robe collar. She squeezed him in a tight embrace. "It's good to see you, too."

A relieved sigh sounded from somewhere behind the warriors, and Anubis glanced over his shoulder to see Mia, hand clasped to her chest and face still etched with leftover worry.

"You really had us worried there," Kento confessed, pushing through to step in the room.

"Come now, you didn't really think I'd let myself get taken out by a Dynasty soldier, did you?" She smiled as the men all finally filtered into the room. "Besides, Rowen did a great job on the first aid."

"Yeah, well, it's easy when you've got a tough patient," Rowen conceded.

Looking to the doorway, Iris fell quiet. They followed her eyes to find Dais lingering there now, his cold eye studying her severely. He moved past Anubis like a phantom, and as he approached the woman, Yuli hugged her neck closer. After what seemed an eternity in silence, Dais knelt down at her side and crossed his fist over his chest.

"I owe you my life," he said slowly.

"Lucky you," Iris replied, "I'm not a good debt collector."


	36. Chapter 36: Cognizance

Chirping. Rustling. He took a deep, calming breath and closed his eyes. The sounds of the woods were all at once quiet and boisterous, a noisy, chaotic din of life.

And there, under all of it, was the familiar sound of conversation: lower, masculine voices punctuated by the higher, brighter voices of women. A smirk begrudgingly crept to Dais's lips.

He waited on the porch another moment before climbing quietly to his feet and turning into the front doorway. After days of fretful stillness, the house had quickly descended into its normal commotion, with most of its inhabitants currently in residence in the living area.

"You _have_ to know how you do it." Kento's voice erupted over the table, his insistence clear.

"I'm telling you, I don't." Iris's reply was remarkably patient. She was seated on the floor, Mia sitting behind her working a comb through her thick, dark locks of hair. "It just happens."

"That doesn't make any sense!" Hardrock planted both hands on the table now and pushed up on to them.

"We're talking about magical armors," she argued, "and you're looking for _sense_?"

"The washing powder is in the kitchen?" Anubis interrupted, emerging from the hallway with a large basket tucked under his arm. He had collected the blankets on which the woman had slept for the last several days, piled into the bin to be cleaned.

"Yes, the cabinet across from the stove." Iris offered him a pathetic glance, "I really appreciate you doing that." The Warlord dismissed her statement with a gentle shake of his head before proceeding toward the kitchen.

"So when you say it just happens," Rowen started, redirecting the conversation, "you mean you just move?"

"I—guess." Her words were slower now, hesitant, and the slightest furrow crept across her brows. "You all seem _very_ suddenly interested in the armor." Dark eyes passed over Rowen and Kento in turn. "Since you came back from Toyama."

Sage's violet eyes peered up from beneath golden locks, then shifted uncomfortably to Ryo. Mia's hands ceased their work, comb lingering just over the dark strands flowing through her palm. Anubis stopped in the kitchen doorway at her words and turned his head over his shoulder. A sudden, uneasy silence permeated the room, and the disquiet did not go unnoticed.

"What are you not telling me?" Iris pressed, her eyes settling firmly on Rowen. The blue-haired man exchanged a tense glance with Mia, who quietly set the comb down and released the woman's hair. She got silently to her feet and trailed off down the hallway toward the bedrooms, an action Iris followed before looking back to the warriors. Her suspicions had peaked and her patience had waned. " _Rowen_."

"We found the rest of the legend," Ryo interjected. "We know exactly what Talpa's planning."

"He needs human sacrifices to create a bridge between the Nether World and ours," Sage added. "Specifically, the wielders of the armors created from his."

Mia returned now with a thick tome clasped in both hands.

"Staves of spirits nine forge the bridge," Rowen recited.

"Nine?"

Iris's tone made Hardrock wince. Severe, distrustful. Anubis had turned round to face into the room now, watching her carefully. Dais remained silently lurking in the doorway, arms crossed and shoulder against the doorframe.

"Nine." Sage's reply offered no comfort or reassurance. "The Oblivion armor isn't in the legend."

"It must have been missed in transcription," she asserted.

"This was transcribed exactly," Mia contested, stepping closer.

"Then it's _wrong_." Iris looked up at her sternly, bringing a frown to the woman's lips. She took a deep, calming breath before lowering to her knees beside her and placing the book on the floor.

"You can see for yourself," she offered, drawing the book open and carefully sifting through the pages. Finally, she settled on the page emblazoned with familiar, circular emblems: numbered nine. Looking up, Mia found Iris's head shaking very slowly, though whether the gesture was of disbelief or something else, she could not be sure. "Iris, the Oblivion armor _isn't_ in here."

"I am its keeper," Iris said, her voice quivering. She was trembling ever slightly, her eyes burning. Her face betrayed a muddled mixture of indignation, anger, disbelief. " _Kaosu himself_ trusted me with protecting the armor from Talpa."

"No one's disputing that," Rowen assured her.

" _Why_ would he have done such a thing if it _didn't need to be protected_?"

"We never said it didn't!" Ryo's voice was tinged with frustration. "We _know_ this thing is powerful! It's more powerful than _all_ of ours. But it isn't _mentioned_ with ours, either."

"And what does that _mean_?"

"It means your armor didn't come from the same place ours did," Rowen answered. "It isn't like ours because it didn't come from Talpa." His words brought a long, uneasy pause.

"Then where did it come from?" Iris watched him with narrowed eyes.

"We don't know," he conceded.

"Where do you _think_ it came from?" Her voice was slow and deliberate. Strata was quiet for several moments, his gaze locked with hers as he considered his answer carefully.

"Maybe the Ancient himself." He saw her spine straighten and draw back, as if she was retreating. "Think about it. It's more powerful than any of our armors. He told us if Talpa found it, it would be enough to destroy the mortal world even _without_ the others. And the Ancient defeated Talpa, right? How?" The woman's eyes had not budged from him. "He must have had _something_ that was _really powerful_."

"Something like your armor," Sage added.

The warriors watched nervously as she sat, shaking her head slowly to herself. Disbelief was crumbling, giving way to devastation. Her breath was hitching, and watery eyes diverted around the room as if evaluating an escape route.

"Iris, this doesn't change anything," Ryo offered. "The Ancient chose you to protect the armor, no matter where it came from, and he sent us to find you for a reason."

"We just don't know where you fit in all of this," Rowen agreed.

"Seems to me you've already decided that I don't." Her voice was calm and resolute now. Iris pushed up cautiously to her feet, her hand clasped gently to her wounded chest. She moved swiftly to the door and pushed past Dais, avoiding his piercing gaze as it followed her.

"Iris!" Mia called.

"I've got her," Anubis said quietly, setting the laundry basket down. He hurried across the living space and out the door, Dais turning sideways to allow him to pass.

"Well, _that_ went exactly like I thought it would," Kento sighed. Rowen ran his fingers through his hair with a frown.

"Iris," Anubis called into the yard. He could see her traversing one of the cemetery's winding paths, dried leaves crunching noisily beneath her feet in her haste. The Warlord paused in his pursuit momentarily and drew a breath. Finally, he called out into the breeze, " _Svnoyi_."

She halted abruptly in her steps. As he approached, she swung round on her heels, her face unyielding.

"I told you never to call me that again," she hissed.

"It worked," he stated simply. He saw the shaking, furious breath she drew through her nose as she rolled her eyes away from his gaze. Reaching out, his hands settled gently on her shoulders. "I don't understand why you are so upset." A dry, incredulous laugh breathed past her lips.

"Everything I have known for over _four-hundred years_ might be a _lie_ ," Iris replied.

"The Ancient trusted you with the Oblivion armor. That is true, and it is the only truth that matters."

She met his gaze, tears lingering along her bottom lashes and threatening to fall. Blinking precariously, Iris managed a calming breath before speaking again.

"Did you know?"

"Yes," he confessed.

"How long?"

"Since the festival."

"And you didn't say anything." She shook her head briefly and diverted her gaze, turning her head away from him. Her lips trembled as she struggled blink away frustrated tears. "You should have told me."

"And what would that have accomplished?" Anubis's voice was dubious. He tilted his head a bit to try to meet her gaze, though she refused to acknowledge the gesture. "You were unresponsive for _days_. And when you finally woke up, you were incoherent. Muttering nonsense. I doubt you even know what you said."

His words recaptured her attention. She turned her head back to face him now, her gaze meeting his. For a moment, he was taken aback by the fierceness of it, and his fingers instinctively squeezed her shoulders as if anticipating a strike.

"I know exactly what I said," she stated, her voice firm. "And I meant every word of it."

Words eluded him as his heart leapt into his throat. Iris's gold-flecked eyes remained locked on his, a lingering fire flickering in their depths. Anubis released her shoulders and reached up to cup her jaw in his hands. His thumb stretched to gently brush across her cheek, and as she brought her hands to rest softly against his chest, his heart pounded wildly. Finally, the Warlord drew her jaw up and leaned down to press his lips tenderly to hers.


	37. Chapter 37: Strategy

"Anubis, you sly dog."

Amusement crept through Kento's voice, a smirk curled up on his lips as he peered out into the graveyard. Cye craned his head over to follow Hardrock's gaze and smiled a bit. The change had been subtle, with days of suggestive gestures and intimate glances since she had awakened, but now as they watched Iris and Anubis through the open door there was no denying it: a centuries-old love had reignited. They walked the cemetery's path hand-in-hand, fingers interlocked and voices laughing.

"It's about time," Cye remarked.

"Alright, you two," Mia warned.

"Ah, we're not hurting anything," Kento huffed.

Cye offered a small headshake with a bit of a grin, but as he turned his attention away from the door, his brow furrowed. It was brief, but enough to hook his friend's attention, and Kento's eyes followed his down the hallway just in time to catch a glimpse of silver hair vanishing into the library.

"Now what's he up to?" Hardrock glanced at Torrent first before pushing away from the window and starting down the hallway. After a slight shrug, Cye followed close behind, leaving Mia at the table alone.

Emerging in the doorway, Kento halted in his steps. Dais was seated on the ground, blankets folded up against the wall to maximize the available space. A large scroll of rice paper was rolled open across the wooden floor. At first, it could have been mistaken as a painting, but upon closer inspection it was clear the illustration was an extensive map, and while Kento was admittedly not the best at geography, he was quite certain the landscape was none he was familiar with. The Warlord was leaned over, carefully adding further details and topography.

"Whoa, Dais," Hardrock remarked, "what is all of this, man?"

A steely eye shifted up to gaze at him coolly, and the slightest smirk twitched up on his lips. Kento clenched his jaw a bit, but made the effort to hide his disapproval of the man's enduring, inherent eeriness.

"This," Dais announced, "is a map of the Nether World."

"Anubis wasn't kidding when he said you knew the layout of the place." Cye stepped past Kento and stood at the edge of the scroll now, squatting down and resting his elbows on his knees to examine it.

"What's it for?" Kento stepped in beside his friend and leaned over, hands planted on his knees for support.

"Strategy." Dais straightened up and shot a skeptical look at the warrior. "This is not the place to charge into without clear tactics."

"Right." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"You plan on sharing that with us?" Looking over their shoulders, they found Sage's cool, disapproving eyes and crossed arms. Ryo and Rowen stood at either side of him, peering in curiously.

"Clearly," the Warlord quipped. He observed the group quietly for a moment before offering a sarcastic, sweeping motion across the side of the map, gesturing for them to join him. The men exchanged glances, then filtered into the room with Cye and Kento and took seats on the floor along the map's perimeter.

Dais's fingers trailed gracefully across the parchment, agile like a spider's legs. "There are four gates into the Dynasty, positioned inside the city limit. But the Nether Realm does not obey the same physical laws as this world. Each gate, while close in proximity within the city, is an entrance to a different region of the Nether World." Ivory fingertips glided over inky black lines. Something moved in his peripheral vision and he looked up to the doorway to find another figure lurking in it. He smirked a bit as his eyes scanned upward. "Kind of you to join us."

Anubis offered only a stoic expression in return, stepping into the room behind Kento. Doing so, he revealed Iris, standing quietly behind him. She lingered in the doorway uncomfortably.

"Should I go?" She motioned to her side in the direction of the living area.

"No," Rowen answered, "you belong in this, too." Anubis looked back over his shoulder to her to exchange a glance, and she took a step inside the room.

"The eastern gate should be avoided," Dais continued, "it leads directly into the castle."

"Sounds like right where we need to be to me," Kento quipped.

"Talpa has _meticulous_ control of the castle grounds. He can manipulate every space within it." The Warlord of Illusion shifted his cold gaze to Hardrock. "You would not even get through the gate before you were obliterated."

Kento clenched his fist, causing a few of the knuckles to crack. It was Anubis's hand that settled on his shoulder to calm him, and the warrior took a long, tense breath.

"Alright, so how do we get in otherwise?" he growled, his impatience crawling through his teeth.

"You don't," Dais replied coolly. "Our strategy will be drawing him _out_ of the castle, into the plains of the Nether World." He traced over a large, open span on the map. "He maintains a measure of omnipotence here, but he is unable to warp the terrain as he does within the castle grounds." His finger slinked along his sketch. "The western gate leads into woodlands to the north of the castle here. This is the closest entrance to the palace without entering its boundary directly."

"The southwestern gate is the ingress to these valleys." Dais's index finger trailed down a lengthy, ragged line. "Ravines and steep gorges cut through the landscape here. And the northwestern gate opens into these dunes." He laid his palm flat on the map. "They offer little protection, but this is the entrance he would least expect."

Ryo's eyes moved across the grim faces of his comrades.

"Alright," he breathed, "so we avoid the eastern gate, and then what?"

"Cover each of the others." Pointing to the dunes, he continued, "Hardrock and Torrent enter the northwest gate. The terrain is most favorable to his armor, and the breach provides a distraction, but the distance prevents an immediate risk." The twosome exchanges furtive glances and nods.

"Strata and Halo approach the southwest. Stay in the highlands, on the east of the ravines. The cavalry is unable to traverse the gorges, so Talpa will dispatch archers, removing the long-range soldiers from the field." His eye moved to Ryo. "Wildfire and Anubis take the western gate."

"And what about you?" Ryo asked. He watched the man's jaw clench.

"He is without armor," Anubis acknowledged. His voice lowered now, his words heavy, "and this task is dangerous enough."

"We are traitors," Dais stated. "Sekhmet and Cale will be searching for us, for retribution for our betrayal." His eye settled on the plot of the tree-scattered plain. "The woodlands will offer some safety, however brief." Looking up to his former comrade, he gazed hard at the man. "You are the most powerful among them."

"I know," Anubis agreed. "I will lead the charge to face Talpa."

An uneasy silence settled on the men. Cye's troubled sea green eyes moved up to Iris, who had slowly sank to lean against the doorway. His gaze triggered his friends to follow. She was struggling to maintain a neutral expression, but as she pursed her lips into a thin line and crossed her arms, her despondency was palpable.

"Iris," Cye managed. She offered a small shake of her head.

"It is too dangerous for the Oblivion to enter the Nether Realm." Anubis's voice had a tenderness to it now.

"You're right." Iris nodded, though whether it was in agreement or to convince herself was not entirely clear. "Staying here with Dais keeps my armor and his soul out of Talpa's hands." Her voice softened, "and that may end up being our last hope."

The severity of her words were not lost on the warriors. Eyes shifted uncomfortably, and grim expressions painted across their faces. Rowen placed his chin against his knuckles apprehensively, blue eyes diverting from the doorway. Cye's lips parted as if preparing to speak, to offer some words of comfort, but he could find none. Iris lingered only a moment longer before the fear of betraying herself stirred her to turn out of the doorway and vanish down the hall.

Anubis watched after her briefly, swallowing hard. A pang of guilt struck through him like lightning. Looking back into the gathering, he found a collection of gazes settled on him in silence and closed his eyes.

* * *

A single, gnarled branch shifted in the breeze. She had been watching it for what seemed like an eternity, its distorted grey visage scratching furiously at her mind. It clearly did not belong here, buried within the beautiful purple blooms around it.

And yet here she stood, elevated and unmoving. Shears hung loosely in her grasp, rocking within the flesh of her palms. At first she thought the swaying of her body was the wind shifting the unstable wooden step stool in the soft soil beneath her. But taking a brief breath, she found it was in fact her own weight, teetering back and forth on the balls of her feet.

Numb. As the word crossed her mind, she realized all of her senses seemed to have suffocated; a low, unnerving ringing hummed in her ears, drowning out the rustling of the foliage above her. Her braided ponytail lifted on the breeze, but neither its tugging nor the sensation of the loose hairs floating about her hairline piqued her nerves. A bitter, metallic taste lingered on her tongue that she could not place. Not even the sweet scent of the lilac tree's blooms seemed capable of breaking through the smothering dread threatening to take her feet out from beneath her.

And now she could not even be sure the branch was grey at all.

"You have been watching that limb for quite some time now."

The voice was distorted in her ears, and had it not been so familiar it would have certainly startled her. Iris's eyes did not budge from the branch, as if hoping the sound would kick her senses. A brief, dry laugh escaped her.

"Yeah," she managed. "It needs to go."

"Does it really?"

 _Goddamn it_. She closed her eyes and twisted at her waist, though she could not bring her eyes up from the ground to meet him.

"Maybe not," she confessed. Strong, tanned hands reached up, one taking the shears from hers and the other offered to her. She relinquished the tool and took a step down, allowing the robust arm to coil securely around her waist and lift her from the stool before placing her feet firmly in the grass.

Anubis set the shears down carefully. Straightening up, he found her body turned away from him and eyes still lingering somewhere within the tree's branches.

"I am sorry," he offered, his voice quiet.

"Wow, that's familiar," Iris breathed, her gaze falling.

His heart wrenched painfully in his chest as he understood.

"You, charging off into battle," she continued, "leaving me behind to wonder if this is when you don't come back." She managed to lift her head to look at him now. "Just like old times."

His heart felt like lead, dropping down into the pit of his stomach and leaving an aching void in his ribs. Quietly, he reached out to her and drew her to face him.

"It does not have to be," he said. He gently squeezed her arms to steady the trembling in his hands. _I have already made this mistake once. I will not make it again._

Anubis caught the questioning expression that came across her face and took a long, settling breath. Quietly, he sank down to one knee, green eyes unmoving from her gaze. His tone was firm, and his face determined, a stark contrast from the tenderness with which he took her hands into his.

"Iris. I want you to be my wife."


	38. Chapter 38: Vow

An indistinct, hazy commotion bustled outside the window, the only noise in an otherwise silent room. It was strangely comforting in its turmoil, dozens of sounds indistinguishable from each other and yet somehow humming together into a chaotic symphony. Perhaps it was a bit odd that such a racket was soothing, especially as accustomed as he was to quiet and calm, but the thought came and passed too quickly for him to dwell on.

Anubis took a deep breath as he stepped in front of the mirror. A black silk collar folded boldly over his chest, layered with a black haori and striped hakama pants. While he had never given much thought to his own attractiveness, if any at all, he could not deny the allure that accompanied such attire, and he found himself scrutinizing the details of his presence. He quietly drew his hair into a bundle the nape of his neck, and after a moment of consideration released it; he had never liked his hair drawn back, and clearly today was no different.

But it _was_ different, wasn't it? He stared into the eyes of his own reflection. This was a day he had not dreamt of in ages. In fact, he was not entirely sure he had _ever_ dreamt of it. Centuries ago, he had been a wild spirit, untamable and insatiable, and of all the things he imagined for himself, his nuptials had not been among them. He frowned at the realization.

That was not to say he had not imagined his bride _beside_ him in glory; he could, at least, assure himself of that. But now as he ruminated on it, he could not quell the nagging feeling that it had simply been yet another selfish desire of an avaricious young man, or that he had not changed as much as he wanted to believe.

He took another deep breath, settling the tremble that crawled through his stomach. Today _was_ different: he was absolutely certain he had never felt so _uncertain_ before.

"Does it really count as eloping, though?" Kento shrugged. "I mean, they're really just picking up where they left off, aren't they? Dude should have done this centuries ago."

"I guess that _is_ one way of looking at it," Mia said. "It just seems very impulsive."

"Well, it _is_ impulsive," Kento agreed, "and I know impulsive. But this is a logical sort of impulsive."

"Kento, there is no such thing," Sage remarked.

"I don't suppose it really matters what we think, now does it?" Cye chimed in. "All of this happened way before we came along, after all." Rowen offered a half-nod of agreement as he struggled to straighten his tie.

The sitting room door slid open, drawing their attention toward it. Anubis emerged wordlessly to their collective gaze, and Ryo got to his feet to greet him.

"There's the man of the day," he said cheerfully. "Howya feeling?" He noticed the nervous look the Warlord offered him in response and he clapped a hand on his shoulder firmly. "Hey. You look great."

"Man, you're finally getting the girl," Kento added, "that's something to celebrate." Anubis managed a small chuckle, but its heavy tone betrayed the weight he was feeling, and a frown crossed Hardrock's face.

"You don't sound nearly as confident as we do," Rowen said semi-jokingly.

"You're not getting cold feet, are you?" Cye inquired, a tinge of genuine concern in his voice. Anubis furrowed his brow a bit and looked to Rowen.

"Means you're having second thoughts," he clarified.

"No," Anubis replied, but then his voice quieted as he conceded, "at least, not about her."

"Then what about?" Sage's stoicism reflected the seriousness that had come over the company.

"We are on the brink of war with the Dynasty," the Warlord acknowledged. "I fear I am marrying her only to leave her a widow."

"Hey, whoa." Kento put his hands up. "Dynasty's off-limits today. I don't want to hear about Talpa or Warlords or anything else. You already screwed this up because of them once, and that's one time too many." Insensitive as the remark may have been, Anubis could not help but laugh.

"Come on," Rowen encouraged, "let's get moving. Can't be late for your own wedding."

As he followed the warriors to the door, Anubis stopped in his tracks. He turned back into the dressing room to a few confused protests, strolling back to the dresser. A few soft sprays of lilacs lay on top of it; he had carefully selected the blooms that morning, and in his apprehension, had nearly forgotten them.

He swept back out of the room to join them again, confidence renewed and spirits lifted. Cye glanced down to the sprigs of purple clutched in the man's hand and smiled a bit, quickly looking ahead again to avoid drawing his comrades' attention to the blooms.

This cottage was much deeper into the woods than the caretaker's house, tucked in an area of the abandoned town that had been largely overtaken by wildlife. Where the cemetery was surrounded by reverent, quiet wilderness, the town had been infiltrated by boisterous life, slowly succumbing to nature. Only a few structures remained, those it appeared Iris had attempted to preserve, and the men had graciously agreed to dress here at her request. Something about tradition, she insisted, and while Anubis had not understood entirely what the purpose of such a custom was, he had gathered from Mia that he should oblige.

As they entered the characteristic cedar grove, the Warlord's stomach fluttered. The golden light of the late afternoon sun cast majestic rays through the trees, and a gentle breeze caressed the air. He caught a glimpse of silky, ivory rose petals scattered on the leaf-strewn ground, a distinct path winding through the woods.

"You ready for this?" Sage's voice was grounding, and Anubis looked up from his feet to allow his eyes to wander down the petal pathway.

The footpath trailed over the forest floor and through the cedars to a robust, solitary oak. Lush clusters of cream roses crept up its trunk, winding and swirling around the ancient tree. Elegant in its simplicity, the site was uninterrupted by chairs or other seating, unnecessary for the intimacy of the occasion.

It took Anubis several minutes to notice anything amiss. But as his company's footsteps slowed, his pace declined with them, and he looked ahead to find what they had already discovered. Only three people stood in the clearing now: Dais, dressed in a slate grey kimono, Yuli standing sheepishly near his side, and an older man Anubis recognized from town. Mia exchanged an uneasy glance with Ryo behind the Warlord's shoulder. Dais nodded resolutely to himself, stepping forward to greet them.

"Where is Iris?" Anubis asked carefully. He searched Dais's face for an answer and, finding none, his heart skipped a beat.

"She is not here," he replied dutifully, bowing his head a bit.

"She is not here," Anubis repeated. His lips and fingers tingled as if going numb.

"She's not here _yet_ ," Kento corrected.

"Someone saw her today, though, right?" Sage asked, his voice quiet. Mia chewed her lip a bit and gave him the slightest headshake, trying to avoid Anubis's sight. The motion did not go unnoticed by the groom; he took a deep, tense breath.

"Look, I'm sure she's got a good reason." Rowen assured him.

 _Yes, she did not want to get married_ , Anubis thought. That would be a damn fine reason.

"The bride is always a bit late," Cye added, "she'll be here."

The passage of time seemed to suddenly grind to a screeching halt. He felt the beat of his own heart like the ticking of a clock, each _tock_ more excruciating than the last. His thoughts took a grim turn and his breath hung painfully in his chest. Perhaps this was payback.

She was not late. She was not coming.

A loud, thundering roar tore through his thoughts. He was slow to move in his daze, his company reacting long before he had even turned. A relieved smile crossed Mia's face first, and Kento heaved a grateful sigh. Finally, Anubis's gaze followed and met theirs.

Iris emerged at the foot of the path now, White Blaze standing proudly at her side. He roared into the trees again as if announcing their arrival, an action met with an amused grin from the caretaker as she took her first step into the grove.

She was breathtaking. Dressed in a simple gown of soft silk, she carried a diminutive bunch of hand-picked peonies, lilies, and roses in a bright palette of pink, fuchsia, indigo, and violet. A long drop veil flowed over her, hair set in dark curls cascading down her back. For a moment, Anubis was sure he was dreaming, a reverie to console his aching heart, but as she drew nearer he noticed the off-shoulder neckline of her gown had been carefully placed to conceal the chest wound she still bore, planting her firmly in reality.

After a tense moment of arrested breath, the Warlord walked to greet her. Iris smiled up at him as he approached, her eyes glimmering gold in the sunlight and cheeks touched with peachy rose. He stood there for several heartbeats in a stunned silence.

"These are for you," he finally managed clumsily, offering the sprigs of lilacs. His voice lowered to avoid being overheard, "I did not know if you would—" She tittered a bit and tenderly collected the sprays from his hand, tucking them gently amid the blooms clutched in hers.

"They're perfect," she assured him. She placed her hand gently in his open palm, and only as Kento cleared his throat did Anubis remember they were not alone. He turned to take her to his side, delicate fingers clasped tenderly in his, and led her down the aisle toward the great oak. Meeting the joyful faces of their witnesses as they passed, he smiled; even Dais offered a reassuring half-smirk and nod.

They approached the older gentleman standing beneath the oak, who had ever patiently waited in solemn quiet. His was a kind face, marked with the lines of a well-lived life, and his eyes sparkled from under his greying brows. He was dressed in a grey kimono and black hakama pants topped with a muted lavender haori jacket. Taking a moment to observe Anubis and Iris in turn, he smiled and raised his chin to speak.

"Today, we bear witness to the union of two spirits," he declared, "those of Koma Toshitada and Iris de la Rosa."

Anubis's eyes shifted from the man briefly as he caught glimpse of movement. He found Iris's head tilted almost curiously at him, the ghost of an inquisitive smile perked on her lips, and he could not resist the smirk that he returned.

Mia stepped forward and offered her hands to Iris, who gratefully passed her bouquet into them. Her own hands now free, she brought both to rest in the Warlord's palms, and he closed his fingers around them.

"Toshitada, do you come to this place willingly," the man asked, "and give yourself to this woman freely and without reserve?"

"I do." Green eyes had not moved from his bride, his voice firm and masking the tremble that fluttered in his throat.

"And do you, Iris, come to this place willingly, and give yourself to this man freely and without reserve?"

"I do."

"Then you may recite the vows."

Seeing the smile that cracked on Iris's face now made the Warlord's chest swell with warmth and he struggled to take a breath over the pounding of his heart. Somehow, he managed to draw just enough to join her as she spoke.

 _Today, I make a promise_

 _That whatever happens, you will not walk alone._

 _I will be the sun for your brightest days,_

 _And the stars in your darkest night._

 _I am your shelter in the storm,_

 _In success and in sorrow,_

 _From this day, until the end of my days._

Satisfied, the older man smiled and announced again to the small gathering, "with the declaration of commitment, and exchanging of vows, I now pronounce you man and wife." He offered a cheeky grin to Anubis, taking an agonizing moment to appreciate the palpable anticipation lingering in the air. Finally, he bowed his head. "You may kiss your bride."

Anubis reached under the edge of the veil and gently lifted it up and out of her face. His arms coiled around her waist to draw her against him, and finally, their lips met. He felt her grin against the kiss as Yuli erupted into an enthusiastic cheer behind him, interrupting the polite clap initiated by the warriors. It was enough to spark a greater commotion, with Kento's hollering joining in first, and White Blaze promptly roaring into the pandemonium. Laughter trickled into the merriment now, and as their kiss parted, the Warlord rested his forehead tenderly against hers. Iris brought her arms to rest on his shoulders, hands folded behind his head as she took a moment to meet his gaze.

The groom abruptly knelt and hooked his arm under her knees, sweeping her effortlessly into his arms as she managed a small squeal.

" _Yeah_!" Kento cheered, pumping his fist into the air. "Now _that's_ how you do it!"

"You are _ridiculous_ ," Iris declared over Anubis's shoulder.

He turned first to acknowledge their company, nodding respectfully. Doing so, he saw the scattering of handwaves urging them off, but an undeniably suggestive smirk from Dais drew a chortle he fought to stifle. Mia stepped closer to return Iris's bouquet before Anubis's grasp on his bride tightened and he started on the path away from the gathering.

"You are not carrying me all the way back like this," Iris said.

"Is that a challenge?" Anubis's lips curled into a smirk, and the caretaker simply laughed and shook her head, resolved to her place in his arms. As the distance between them and the congregation widened, his smile faded, and when he spoke next his voice was soft. "I feared you were not coming."

The joyful expression on her face tempered and her dark eyes met his, her brows furrowing lightly as she found the utmost seriousness in his gaze. "Why?"

"I thought perhaps you had changed your mind," he confessed.

Iris coiled her hand around the back of his neck, her fingers tracing loving circles against his skin. "I've had four-hundred years to change my mind about you." She gazed at him tenderly for a long, silent moment before speaking again. "So should I start calling you Toshitada again?"

"You may call me whatever you wish." The Warlord offered earnest eyes as he returned her gaze. "I prefer 'husband'." She smiled and her face softened to something tender, almost awestruck by the word.

"Me too," she admitted.

"You guys ready to head out of here?" Ryo gestured his thumb over his shoulder.

"I'd rather get over that river before nightfall," Cye stated with a nod.

"Wait, we're not going with them?" Yuli asked, perplexed.

"No, we're going to stay in town for the night," Mia answered.

"Gotta give the newlyweds some alone time," Kento added.

"Alone time? Why?" The boy's confused blue-grey eyes looked up and around at the smattering of stifled chuckles and snickering. " _Guys_."

"Remind us to explain it to you when you're a little older." Rowen reached down to scruff the boy's hair playfully.


	39. Chapter 39: Charge

Familiar.

Iris had said it only once, but it repeated in the Warlord's mind so many times he could have questioned that. And now, as he stood on the cemetery's soft footpath, back warmed by the sunlight, it was the only word he could think of.

She was silent. She always was when this moment came, as it had all those many times before. But as he drew her diminutive form into his arms, pressing her firmly into his body, he could not ignore how tightly her arms embraced him, or the nearly-imperceptible quiver of her core that trembled against him.

"Please be safe." Iris's pressed her cheek close to his chest, closing her eyes and listening to the slow, steady beat of his heart.

Anubis's arms tightened around her, and he brought his cheek to rest against the top of her head. He had not imagined leaving would be so difficult this time, and simultaneously could not fathom how it had been so easy before. Finally, his grasp eased, and he leaned back to gaze down at her, arms slacking to rest around her waist.

"I will return to you," he managed. She simply nodded, lips sealed in fear of what she might say if she dared open them. He brushed the backs of his fingers tenderly down her cheek and framed her jaw with his hand, leaning down to press a tender kiss to her lips.

Taking a final, longing glance at her gold-flecked eyes, he willed himself to pull away. Anubis retreated down the footpath in silence to join the five armored young men waiting at the edge of the graveyard. Stepping into the cover of the forest, the Warlord glanced back to find the woman lingering in place, watching quietly as they vanished into the wooded depths.

As they approached the river, a brilliant white light flashed through the foliage, and Anubis's kimono dissipated. Dark, wicked armor engulfed his frame, characteristic brown coat catching on the wind.

 _The Ogre returns_.

* * *

A haunting, luminescent green permeated the inky perpetual dusk on the horizon. The vacant streets of the city seemed more ominous somehow, their stillness stirring each warrior's mind into awareness. Wary eyes shifted from shadow to shadow.

Anubis's gaze traveled upward, settling on the looming gate jutting up far above the surrounding skyscrapers. Identical silhouettes stabbed into the sky throughout the city, illuminated by unnatural light. They were both familiar and foreign, something he never wanted to see again and yet knew he would.

"So we avoid the eastern gate," Ryo said, shattering the eerie silence.

"This is the west gate," Anubis confirmed. His eyes shifted across the skyline to his right. "Hardrock and Torrent are to go through the northwest gate there." Moving his head to his left, he nodded toward the looming shadow lurking amid the buildings. "And Halo and Strata, the southwest." A scattering of affirmative nods met his words.

The Warlord turned to face them before speaking again. "Ronins, understand that although these locations work in our favor, they are not without danger. The Nether Realm has its own wicked creatures that will seek to harm you should they find you. You must all remain vigilant."

"So we're taking out as many of these goons as we can," Kento countered, "and then what?"

"We will convene just outside the castle gates. Talpa will meet us there once he has exhausted his options." Anubis noticed the tense glances exchanged across the men and nodded a bit. "I assure you, he will send every minion at his disposal our way."

"We got this." Kento offered his hand to the man, who met the gesture with a firm grasp. "We'll see you guys at the gate."

Ryo clapped his arm around his comrade's shoulders in a hug. A few brief clatters of metal-on-metal reverberated through the streets as the warriors bid their goodbyes to each other before parting, a bolt of orange and blue vanishing down an alley to the right and a streak of green and cobalt descending the street to the left. After a moment of silence, Anubis turned to the face the massive gate.

"You ready for this, Wildfire?" He turned his head to offer the young warrior a sideways glance.

"Ready when you are," Ryo confirmed.

The Warlord stepped up to the massive doors and quietly brought his palms to rest against them. An undulating series of loud, whirring clanks echoed in the stillness, rolling up the height of the gate, and finally a haunting creak speared through the silence. The doors parted to reveal inky, solid black, and an icy breeze swept out from its depths.

"How will the guys get through those locks?" Ryo asked.

"This will have opened all of them."

"You can still do that?"

"Talpa is allowing it." Anubis's voice was grim now, green eyes focused intently into the darkness lurking within the gate. He took a slow, deliberate step forward. A metallic scraping pierced the quiet as Ryo unsheathed his swords, cautiously catching up to the man and disappearing into the gate.

Emerging through the darkness, they were plunged into the abyss of a dense forest, and looking back Ryo realized the gate had vanished entirely. Thick, black foliage suffocated the sky overhead, a gross, mossy scent clinging to the chilly air. The soil beneath their feet was soft, almost sticky, with spidery vines reaching out as if grabbing them. There was something familiar about this place, the stifling growth, its sickening scent, but he found himself unable to place it.

Anubis scanned the trees as if orienting himself. Finally, he took a step to his left and motioned for Wildfire to follow.

"We must move quickly," he stated, "this is the closest location to Talpa's castle. The response to our arrival will be swift."

"You still think quite highly of yourself, don't you, traitor?" The searing voice halted Anubis in his steps. He clenched his fists, and his eyes darted around the trees to find nothing.

"And you still blindly serve your master." He drew his sickle from his back as Ryo backed against him to face into the darkness. "There is only one way this can end, Cale. Talpa will not win this fight. Join us, or fall with him."

"It is _you_ who will fall," Cale growled, "and I will be the one to make sure of it." There was the slightest rustle of leaves, and an abrupt, unnatural shadow cut across the forest.

Sage closed his eyes to quiet his mind. Staring into the void awaiting them, every fiber of Rowen's body seemed to be revolting, screaming in protest and urging him to turn back. A voice lingered in the back of his thoughts, questioning their trust in the Warlord of Illusion, doubting this strategy, fearing for his friends. A calm, soothing hand came to rest on his shoulder, drawing his mind back to awareness, and he looked up to find Sage's eyes settled on him.

"Alright," Rowen said, taking a resolving breath. "Let's do this." Halo nodded, and together they entered the darkness.

The void lingered, and while it could have only been seconds, it seemed an eternity had passed. A sudden, alien sensation coiled around their waists, squeezing and tugging them forward as they struggled to stay on their feet against it. Just as quickly, the feeling dissipated, and yet still somehow it felt as though they had been in its grasp for ages. Time was distorted in this place, and as a dull, rusty grey horizon cracked across his vision, Rowen clapped a hand to his head.

An endless, crackled landscape of copper-colored gravel stretched in every direction. Just as it appeared, Sage tried to analyze _when_ , exactly, it had done so; it was sudden, and yet also as if it had been there underfoot all along. There was a heavy pit in his stomach, nausea brought on by the sheer disorientation of their surroundings. He took a step forward only to be abruptly stopped by Rowen, and he looked down to find a steep crevice at his feet.

A dull thundering rolled along the horizon, akin to a storm. Rapidly, the sound grew louder and nearer, until finally it dissolved into a nearly-intolerable roaring chaos. Small bits of gravel vibrated and cracks spread deeper into the ground, and looking up they found a moving mass of black approaching the other side of the canyon. At first indistinct against the rusty sky, the mass took shape as it neared, revealing a swarming horde of armor-clad soldiers.

"Archers," Rowen stated, eyes narrowed to focus on the weapons buried in the throngs. "Just like Dais said." He put his arm across his comrade and backed up, urging Sage along with him as the chaotic army charged toward the gorge. Black feathered arrows rained along the edges of the crevice, trailing their retreating footsteps.

"I'm not sure what we just got ourselves into," Sage remarked.

"Typical." A deep, blood-curdling voice hissed from the ether. "Backed into a cage like the frightened little rats you are."

"Oh yeah?" Rowen drew and notched an arrow, scanning the distorted landscape.

"Come out and face us, then say that again," Sage challenged, hazy light glinting off the cold metal of his sword as he drew it from his back.

A strange warbling sound trilled in the still air, and a swirling mass of inky black materialized before them. The smoky shadows took shape and through them the haunting, dark green armor of Venom emerged. Purple-lidded, beady eyes stared back at them from beneath a fanged mask, and finally a long, escalating chuckle erupted from the Warlord before descending into maniacal laughter.

"Are you truly ready for me, boys?" Sekhmet hissed. "It seems to me you've come under-prepared, unless you came simply to die."

"We got this," Kento repeated, staring into the gate's abyss. Looking to his comrade at his side, he raised his fist, and Cye lifted his own to bump knuckles. Hardrock took a long breath, held it, then stepped forward, Torrent following suit.

The emptiness was vast, endless. A suffocating heat enveloped them, stifling and threatening to rob both warriors of breath. Staggering through the darkness, bright bursts of light danced across their vision, their minds blurred and stumbling over themselves. For a brief moment, neither could be sure whether they were standing upright or had somehow turned on their heads, the sickening sensation of being tumbled overwhelming them.

Just as abruptly, the vacuum vanished. Unsteady feet tripped in soft sand, and as they stabilized themselves, they found grey and gold dunes sweeping and dipping over the landscape into a strange, nebulous horizon.

"Oh man," Kento huffed, "I feel like we just walked through a funhouse."

"You can say that again," Cye agreed. Turning in place, ocean blue eyes skimmed the vacant desert. "Hey, where did the gate go?"

"I guess there's no turning back now." Hardrock peered into the distance.

"So what now? We just wait for the cavalry?"

"That's what Dais said. Draw the forces away from the castle, take out as many as we can, then we find the others."

A strange hum erupted over the dunes, at first reminiscent of a swarm of winged insects. Howling cut through the din, and vibrations rumbled underfoot. The sweltering air of the desert grew heavier, clinging to their lugs and filling them with suffocating heat. Raising his head, Kento's wary eyes coasted along the dunes in search of movement.

Black waves peeked over the rolling sand, shifting in the dim twilight. The howling hum overwhelming the desert broke into chaos as the swell broke over the dunes, revealing itself as a swarm of soldiers on black horses. Hardrock withdrew his weapon and spun it briefly over his head in preparation as Torrent grasped his yari in both hands.

"It's showtime," Kento declared. But as the horde drew nearer, the self-assured smirk perked up on his lips faded and his eyes grew wide. He heard Cye move closer and in his peripheral could see the man's furrowed brows from beneath his helmet. The words came slowly and quietly, "what the _hell_?"

Amid a sea of black and muddy green on wicked, skeletal horses, a single phantasmal rider emerged: a dusky, maroon and forest green suit of armor, seated calmly atop its horse, its arms crossed.


	40. Chapter 40: Truth

The afternoon sun was bright and merciless. A hot summer day, with little of the mountain breeze to breathe life into the graveyard, should have exhausted the woman hours ago. And yet, here she was, knees stained with dirt and hair matted with sweat, picked diligently at an aging tombstone with a brush. It was one of the older graves, to be sure, one of the few that she had not herself dug, and the soft granite seemed to have collected grime into every crack and crevice it possessed.

Mia's dark, ocean blue eyes gazed out into the cemetery from the doorway. Her brow was knitted with worry, her curled fingers pressed lightly against her lips.

"She should have come in hours ago," she announced. When silence responded, she turned her head back to the porch, where Dais stood quietly observing. "She's been at this all morning."

"Mm," the Warlord hummed, "how else do you occupy such a mind?"

"Dais." Mia turned to face him now, her arms lightly crossed. "Do you think the others stand a chance against the Dynasty?"

A single, cold eye shifted out of the graveyard to meet her. For a moment, his annoyance was tangible, and he stared at her in irritated silence.

"Anubis is with them," he said finally. "And he gives them a slim chance." He struggled not to spit the words, as it was still far more credit than he wanted to give his former comrade. "At least he has some fraction of intellect. He can reformulate their strategy if Talpa reacts in a way I did not anticipate." She frowned.

"And together? Their powers combined," she pressed, trying to ignore the underhanded jabs the man took at her friends.

Dais's gaze drifted back into the cemetery, settling on the woman among the graves. She had ceased in her meticulous nitpicking now, sitting cross-legged with her forearms resting on her knees staring ahead into the tombstone.

"The most powerful remains here," he conceded. "Whether that is to their benefit or Talpa's is yet to be seen."

Seemingly satisfied with her work, Iris stood up, bringing with her the buckets and brushes she had scattered about. She paid no mind to her observers, meandering off deeper into the cemetery without as much as a glance backward. Soon, she vanished out of sight of the house, dead leaves crunching underfoot as she wandered down the path.

Weaving into this eastern path revealed newer graves, some she knew more intimately, some she had interred herself. Some had weathered worse than others, their materials softer or locations faced into the elements. Selecting one with a heavy growth of moss on its side, Iris dropped the buckets into the grass and took her place before it. _Hayashi Haru_. She remembered the name, but the details of the man's face had been softened by time to a hazy memory.

Somewhere through the musings within her mind, recalling old voices and faces, and the gentle rustling of brush bristles, she heard crunching behind her. And then, a metallic jingle.

Iris remained cross-legged on the ground, undeterred from her work. The sound of footsteps moved closer, the slightest metallic ringing catching on the trees and tombstones.

"Iris." A soft, familiar voice, exactly what she was expecting. She continued her gentle, meticulous brushing, moving into the curve of the carved kanji on the memorial. The voice spoke again, more insistent this time. "It seems we have an important matter to discuss." She stopped and let her arms fall into her lap.

"Do we?"

"The Ronins have entered the Nether Realm." The Ancient stepped closer. "And yet you remain here."

"As I should." His brow furrowed at the terseness of her response.

"Why?"

"Because I don't belong among them."

"And why do you say that?" Confusion was clear in his gentle voice.

"The legend only spoke of nine," Iris said, her voice cold. After a moment of uneasy stillness, she slowly got to her feet and turned to face him, finding him still several feet behind her among the graves. "What have you not told me about the Oblivion armor?" The Ancient was silent, his shimmering silver eyes staring back at her without seeing.

"The Oblivion is absent from the legend," he replied carefully, "because it is not of the same armor as the others."

"You lied to me."

"No." The monk stepped closer, frowning as he took notice to her hesitance and the small shift backward in her footing.

"It was yours, wasn't it?"

"I told you the armors belonged to Talpa. That is true."

"You need to get your story straight, monk."

"Iris, you have trusted me for centuries," the Ancient said, "and now you question me?" His words lingered on the air briefly. "Perhaps you _are_ ready for the truth."

Her fist clenched at her side. It felt as if every nerve was on fire. Her core trembled in fury, her eyes burned with angry tears, her jaw ached as her teeth ground together. The Ronins were right. She had been lied to.

"Talpa was once a mortal man," he continued, "a powerful shogun whose ambition to overthrow the emperor drove him to seek unnatural forces he did not fully understand. A shadow realm, accessible only through the darkest places of this world. Fed by his greed and hatred, its evil materialized into a suit of mystical armor, a physical embodiment of death itself." He lifted his chin to look at her now, and for the first time in centuries she felt as if he was truly seeing her. "The armor promised everything he wanted, and it delivered on those promises. But with every victory, its influence grew stronger, and finally he spiraled into madness."

"Soon, he was more specter than man, a terrifying presence no longer human, and his own men could not abide his wickedness. They betrayed him, slaying whatever was left of his fractured soul and banishing it to the shadow realm. There, the shogun crafted a new armor for his ethereal form, that from which the Ronin and Warlords' armors were fractioned."

"But the shadow armor remained here. Unable to be destroyed, it lie in wait for a new keeper. This is the armor you now wear."

"The one that created the demon emperor," Iris stated.

"It is why I never risked bearing it."

"And yet you gave it to me."

"Because I sensed in you great strength," the Ancient rebutted, "perhaps greater than even I possess. And you have carried its darkness without succumbing to it for over four-hundred years." He perked his head to tip his hat brim back. "I think we can agree it was the right choice."

"Why didn't you tell me truth?" She had not eased in her stance, but the fury in her face had softened. "All of it."

"You were not ready." The monk's voice lowered. "And we had time."

"And now we don't."

"No," he confirmed. "The Ronins are in grave danger without you." He waited for the severity of his words to settle before he continued, confident she understood. "Now that you know the true origins of your armor, you must be aware of what that means for its abilities. You have already experienced some of them."

"Unnatural movement," Iris stated.

"You are not moving _through_ this world, you are moving this world _around_ you, passing through the fibers of the Nether Realm itself."

"That's why I move so quickly." There was a tinge of realization and awe in her voice. "Because time in the Nether World is slower than here."

"That means you will not be capable of such speed once you are within the dimension's walls, where the armor experiences real-time. I have never witnessed the Oblivion in the confines of the Nether Realm, and I do not know what power it possesses once returned there. But remember it is the very manifestation of that world, and let that understanding guide you."

The caretaker fell quiet. After several tense moments of silence, her eyes shifted away from him and moved between the trees in the direction of the house.

"I will watch over them," the Ancient assured her. Finally, she moved her gaze back to him with a brief nod.


	41. Chapter 41: Into Darkness

An eerie green aura pervaded black clouds looming overhead, virescent rays resembling sunlight filtering through the gloom.

Decline had been swift. The hostility of the Nether Realm's ether had hastened the decay of the metropolis, leaving rotting ruins in its wake. Concrete walls crumbled, collapsing as if the very structure of their material had liquefied. Remnants of glass windows and doors slumped unnaturally now, as if weeping, and the lingering whispers of life had finally been snuffed out.

There was an uneasiness settled in Iris's stomach as she passed through the city streets alone, and underneath it, a strange nagging feeling. Dark eyes scanned the shadows and she halted in her steps to skim the city skyline.

Four massive gates, reminiscent of tombstones, jutted out from the moldering cityscape into the stormy firmament. She drew a long, deep breath through her nose to settle her churning stomach.

"Stay away from the east gate," Iris murmured to herself. She willed one foot forward, followed by the other, slowly treading through the streets toward the city center.

Approaching one of the massive gateways, the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach grew into something more vicious, almost physically tugging at her. Her breath arrested in her chest and she halted briefly in her steps to acknowledge the sensation. Somehow simultaneously foreign and familiar, energizing and exhausting, she searched her mind for where it was coming from.

 _The Oblivion_. As she drew nearer to the Nether Realm's gate, its shadow grew, and a strange hunger panged within her. This feeling was not new; she recognized it as that which she felt within the confines of the Aokigahara forest. But here it was stronger, heavier, suffocating.

Iris gazed up the height of the grand gate as she confronted it. It was strangely beautiful for the ominous presence it represented: reminiscent of sacred temple doors, rich crimson red inlaid with ornately carved jade and antique gold. She took a deep breath, planted her hands on the gilded doors, and pushed.

Nothing.

The gate remained sealed. She leaned forward to place the entirety of her weight against it, digging her feet into the gravel.

Nothing.

Recoiling, she jumped to thrust her shoulder against the great door, only to bounce back off of it like a rubber ball. That the gates would be locked was a small but important detail she had ignored, and she cursed herself mentally for the foresight failure.

 _Your armor is the very manifestation of the Nether World_. _Let that understanding guide you_.

The caretaker stood in silence, unmoving in the shadow of the massive gate. Her gaze dropped first to her hands before trailing carefully up the span of the intricate doors in contemplation.

Ghostly blue fire swept over her body, leaving haunting skeletal armor in its wake. Flames whipped underneath the long, tattered black cloak and licked anxiously at its hem. The tugging sensation in her stomach grew, urging her to step closer. Slowly, she raised her arms, and brought her armored hands to rest against the gilded doors.

A loud creak roared through the streets as the gate yielded to her touch. The massive doors drew open into a vast void, black and endless, within it the faintest glimmer of stars.

Iris was unsure of when she had actually stepped into the doors' boundary. She did not recall the green haze of the city fading away behind her, or even the movement of her feet, but as she looked around now, a suffocating darkness and silence surrounded her. Just as soon as it appeared, however, it vanished, and with it disappeared the gate's looming presence.

Taking a step, something crunched underfoot. The woman looked down to find black soil, littered with decaying leaves. All at once, a pungent odor struck her senses. _Death_. It was a scent she was very familiar with, lingering beneath damp, earthy moss and sour-smelling foliage.

Her eyes shifted across the dimness. She recognized this place. The eerie, deafening silence, the dense leaves overhead. It was Aokigahara. And yet somehow, it wasn't: trees with black trunks and inky foliage in place of vibrant emerald crawled over the labyrinthine landscape, and the small sounds of life within the forest were entirely absent. This was not Aokigahara, but a twisted mirror of it.

Skimming the trees, Iris realized the trails truly paralleled the mortal forest. The armor's affinity for the Sea of Trees was not a coincidence; it was its earthly counterpart. In place of the great shadow of Mount Fuji stood an ominous castle in the distance.

She took several cautious steps through the mossy undergrowth, an ear sharply focused on the silence. These were the woodlands of the western gate, the entrance Anubis and Ryo should have taken, and the Demon Emperor would surely have dispatched forces to greet them.

A strange, blood-curdling wail echoed through the trees. Heavy footsteps thundered through the foliage, seemingly from all sides. Iris turned round on her heels in an attempt to pinpoint their direction, finding only endless stretches of black woods and dimness.

It was sudden and abrupt: an inhuman roaring erupted behind her and she caught glimpse over her shoulder of a massive, black beast rearing up through the leaves. The caretaker threw her arm up and over her head, ducking her face away from it. Two heavy _thuds_ trembled at her feet, followed by stillness, and after a long moment unmoving, she drew her arm away to look up.

The visage staring back was frightening, a skeletal face with hollow eyes, its skull resembling that of a horse. Black sinew traced over the bones, securing the head to a thick, black neck, and a massive, equine body followed. It was wicked and grotesque with leathery black skin and gnarled hooves, the stench of decay clinging to it. A low, rumbling sound escaped the skinless mouth, and a red glow illuminated in the shadowy eye sockets gazing at her.

Iris faced the beast, her breath hanging in her chest and brows twisted in dread. A tense moment passed, then the fiend inched forward to gently rub its bony snout against her shoulder.

Quietly, slowly, she reached her hand up and brushed her fingers down the length of the skull. The creature seemed to appreciate the touch and nudged further into her grasp. After several gentle strokes of its gruesome face, the beast lowered itself as if beckoning its rider.

* * *

Sekhmet took a heavy step forward. Instinctively, Sage took a step back, but just as he did so, a black feathered arrow impaled the gravel behind his heel, halting his retreat. Another deep, maniacal laugh roared from the Warlord.

"You have quite the conundrum," Sekhmet taunted.

"Take out as many of them as you can." Sage turned his head toward his comrade, "I'll take care of him."

"Right," Rowen agreed. Drawing and nocking an arrow, he took several sweeping steps forward toward the ravine, " _Arrow Shock Wave_!"

A column of striking blue light soared across the gorge, tearing through the wave of dark green on the other side. The devilish minions collapsed and crumbled in its path, evaporating into pillars of sickly black smoke. Swarms of soldiers shifted and swarmed to fill in the gap left behind.

"Your efforts are futile." Lifting his swords, Sekhmet rushed Halo and drove the blades down from overhead. "Master Talpa will reclaim your armor and we will infiltrate the mortal world. You have already lost."

Sage blocked the strike, locking their blades together and meeting the Warlord's beady eyes with a steely gaze. "And what about your armor? What happens to you when Talpa takes it back as well?"

"He does not have to," he hissed, "I have sworn my loyalty and dedicated my life to serving him."

"How far will you go for that? Are you willing to give _up_ your life for him?"

Metal creaked as it was held in tension, then finally a loud screech echoed as Sekhmet ripped his weapons back and took a step away. There was fierceness in his face, an unbridled fury, but as his shoulders trembled, Sage paused.

"A true warrior is prepared to die for his cause," he growled. His words, his shaking tone, betrayed him. Halo recognized the flash of uncertainty that bolted across his form.

"You're in denial," Sage noted. "You're just a pawn. You know that."

The Warlord clenched his fists around the hilts of his swords until his fingers tingled. Drawing the others from his back, the blades illuminated orange. " _Snake Fang Strike_!"

It was a blow Sage narrowly avoided, dodging to the side and allowing the energy to tear across the canyon. The attack shredded and spread through soldiers like flames, vaporizing the demons into swirling voids of black mist and leaving a stretch of charred gravel in its wake. The devastated horde scrambled to cover the breach.

Sekhmet darted to the side and charged the warrior, their blades meeting again. An unhinged mania had overtaken the Warlord now, his eyes wild and body shivering, and he bore down on Halo with inhuman strength. Sage deflected the weapon and moved out from beneath him.

The man stepped closer, his strikes no longer logical or strategic. Frenzied slashing and hacking snagged the Halo armor, digging gashes from which noxious scarlet fumes billowed. In his attempts to dodge, Sage's feet backed closer to the ravine as his comrade struggled to cover him, taking aim at the archers whose arrows threatened his retreat.

A wounded scream. Searing pain. Halo looked down to find a single arrow had succeeded in hitting its mark, piercing the calf of his armor. And it was enough; the distraction allowed his opponent to land a blow on his chest, sending him reeling across the copper-hued gravel.

"Sage!" Rowen shouted, starting his path toward the man. The demonic archers continued their onslaught, and as he sprinted for his friend he sent arrows whistling across the gorge in response.

Sage could feel his lungs burning, sharp pains emanating through his chest with every gasp. Climbing to his feet, he only barely blocked another brutal strike from Sekhmet, armored feet grinding across the ground as he was pushed back from the force of his swords. His arms tremored under the weight, his blade the only obstacle between him and the Warlord's venom.

He caught glimpse of Rowen in his peripheral. Black arrows punctuated every step he made in his friend's direction. Stoic violet eyes darted down to his own heel, inched precariously to the edge of the canyon. Below him, unending darkness.

 _We're outnumbered_. Overpowered.

With a brilliant flash, Sage threw Sekhmet's swords back away from him. He reached out and coiled his arms around the Warlord's torso, drawing him tightly against his own body. Taking a final glance at his comrade, Halo stepped backward and keeled into the chasm, his grasp clenched firmly around Sekhmet to take him down into the void with him.

" _SAGE_!"


	42. Chapter 42: Lost

Rowen leaned over to peer into the gorge, lungs afire as he struggled to breathe. The chaos surrounding him faded into dull humming, drowned out by the painful racing of his heart. Frantically searching the darkness of the chasm for movement, he found none.

A fresh wave of arrows rained down on the edge of the canyon. The demonic archers were unrelenting, their rolling black masses rapidly reloading and firing across the ravine. Rowen stumbled through broken fletchings, dodging projectiles and sending his own tearing through the soldiers. Plumes of charcoal smoke bloomed around Strata's burning blue light as it swept across the army, though every dent simply flooded with a new supply of armored minions.

He looked up a moment too late to escape a single black arrow, whistling viciously through the air toward its mark. Rowen jutted his free arm over his face to block it and waited for the strike.

The hit never landed. There was a shrieking howl, and as he peered over his gauntlet Rowen found a wicked creature, something reminiscent of a bird, intercept the shot just overhead. It clamped the arrow's shaft in its bony beak, giving the warrior a glimpse of its frightening, eyeless skull as it swept by.

Following it with his gaze, he watched the monstrous beast glide upward and back into the sky to join a flock of similarly disturbing fiends, a sea of black punctuated by bone white. Bird-like beasts with slick, oily feathers, reptilian creatures covered in inky black sinew, a flying circus of horror blanketed the sky now, bringing with it the pungent scent of moss and decay.

Rowen quickly nocked an arrow and took aim at the frightening flock. But as he zeroed in on the fell beasts, he realized they did not lunge for him. Those that dove out of the storm did so only to intercept the onslaught of arrows, catching them or taking the hits in their leathery, skeletal flanks.

"What the—?" Strata skimmed the herd overhead, lowering his bow but keeping an arrow in tension.

A low rumbling trembled the ground. As he dropped his attention back to the valley, an ominous presence erupted over the horizon: an equine beast with calloused black skin reared up on its hind legs, its wicked skeletal head rising and a ghastly wail escaping it. On its back sat a stoic black rider, tattered cloak catching on the wind and, beneath it, a grinning skull staring back at the Ronin.

"Iris?" The name was soft and uncertain on his lips. He was sure it was her, but she should not have been here. An illusion? Rowen took a step forward.

A renegade arrow struck the canyon edge below him. All at once, the rock and gravel gave way, collapsing beneath the weight of his armored foot. As the ground crumbled away, Strata tumbled down with it, desperately grasping at the gorge's brink to catch himself.

" _Rowen_!" That warm voice, warped into something not-quite-human by the armor. It was no illusion. He struggled to fasten his bow to his back and free his hand.

The creature tore toward the ravine in a determined gallop. Its rider did not wait for its gait to slow as they neared the Ronin; Iris kicked her leg up and over the beast's back and dove to the gravel, metal scraping as she skid across it on her side. She saw the slender silver fingers slip from the edge and frantically thrust her arm out toward them.

Iris felt her heart plummet into her stomach as she threw her arm over the valley edge. Her fingers grazed a muscular arm, smooth metal slipping by like a dwindling rope despite her attempts to grasp it. Digging the heel of her other hand into the soil to halt herself, she gazed down into the abyss, arm hanging empty.

Chaos continued around her. The winged Nether beasts dove out of the sky now, striking and tearing at the armored archers. The hail of arrows became sparse as the army deteriorated. Still, her eyes remained transfixed on the dark void below her into which Strata had vanished.

Finally, Iris dragged herself back from the gorge, willing her body into a seated position on her knees. Her breath escaped in a brief, choked sob as she planted her palms on her thighs for support. A soft swooping sounded overhead and drew her attention upward to a solitary obsidian-winged beast lingering near as if awaiting instruction.

"Find Sage of the Halo," she managed to breathe. _Did I really just tell this thing to do something?_ She watched as the creature stretched its wings and took back to the skies.

But just as she conceded to the absurdity of her effort, the beast swept the length of the gorge and circled back to her. This time, it came to rest on the ground before her, eyeless face staring back at her. And finally, a long wail trilled through its skull, something forlorn and melancholy.

Rowen was gone. And so was Sage.

* * *

The eerie, dusky suns of the Nether Realm glinted off the brushed metal of the Illusion armor's face mask, revealing hollow, black eye sockets behind it. Cye felt his hair stand on end.

"It's empty!" he shouted back over his shoulder to Kento, catching the maroon mace in the spires of his trident as it hurled at him. The armor responded swiftly with a strike across the face with its nunchaku, sending the man reeling to the side. He struggled to keep his footing in the desert sand, stumbling and driving his yari into the ground to steady himself. "Talpa must be controlling it!"

Kento took several swift steps backward to put distance between himself and the mass of soldiers swarming him. He stabbed through demon after demon, plumes of black smoke pouring from every joint of their armor as they crumbled away. In a brief moment of freedom, he tried to bring his weapon overhead, but a new swell of soldiers rushed forward to impede him.

"There are too many of them!" Hardrock managed a great, sweeping blow, wiping out an influx of the minions only for a fresh wave to surge inward.

Cye bunted the Illusion armor back with the blunt end of his trident.

" _Super Wave Smasher_!" As the blast of water tore across the sand, its target vanished. Sea green eyes skimmed the dunes for a trace of the armor. Within moments, soldiers had closed in around him and he jabbed into the crowd to disperse them.

Clamoring up out of the swarm, Kento finally managed to raise his weapon, spiraling it over his head.

" _Iron Rock Crusher_!" Bringing the staff down, a shockwave spread through the army, swaths of black smoke pouring and curling into the air. Sand exploded to either side, overwhelming those preparing to close in on the warriors and burying them in the sandbanks.

There was a sudden, overwhelming stillness, and a chill ran down Torrent's spine. Just as abruptly as the silence fell, a looming presence erupted from the settling dust. The Illusion armor emerged behind the Ronin, silky silver threads branching from its back and swiftly ensnaring him. Cye let out a brief, choked shout as his feet were pulled out from beneath him, throwing him down into the sand.

Dutifully, the soldiers swarmed, their undulating masses separating the warriors. The dunes shifted and lulled, subtly at first, but quickly they swelled like ocean tides, and in the dim twilight the sand lurched forward to engulf Torrent and the Illusion armor entirely.

" _NO_!" Kento's voice cracked, mirroring the anguish in his face as his friend's form disappeared beneath the sandbanks. He struggled against the minions still grasping, stabbing, tugging at him, and realized they were attempting to pull him beneath them, a wicked undertow in a demonic sea.

A deep, low rumbling suddenly rolled over the landscape. Peering through his tears over the ocean of dark green helmets, Kento watched another haunting mass gathering on the horizon. His brows furrowed as it came into view: a herd of malevolent-looking beasts charging over the sand toward him. Monstrous creatures resembling horses and cattle, their bodies leathery and black, skins shorn from their heads to reveal ghastly grinning skulls. He gripped his staff tighter and prepared for the onslaught.

The beasts permeated the army, with loud, piercing wails and howls cutting through the arid air. Dull black hooves kicked up sand and drove down into soldiers, tearing at limbs and crushing them beneath their weight. Kento frantically scrambled backward to dodge them, but doing so he realized the creatures seemed to be ignoring him entirely. Vicious skeletal faces and massive horns skewered the minions surrounding him, somehow leaving him unscathed. He turned round on his heels to watch in confusion as the herd thrashed through the horde one by one.

Another ghostly wail pierced through the chaos, drawing Kento's attention over his shoulder. An equine beast reared up over the dunes, and on its back sat a menacing, hooded figure.

The monster grounded itself and galloped into the fray toward him. As it drew nearer, the warrior's face contorted in disbelief, the grim rider revealing itself as a familiar skeletal armor wielding a scythe. He tried to blink away the tears blurring his sight, certain he was mistaken.

 _It can't be_.

The haunting rider charged into the turmoil. While the others continued their assault on Talpa's army, crushing soldiers underfoot and impaling and ramming through them, the ghostly presence tore through the stampede directly for him. Kento had barely acknowledged the Oblivion armor when its plated arm reached down to coil around his ribs. He was swiftly swept from his feet, tugged against the muscular body of the skeletal horse-beast as it sprinted through the throng.

Iris heaved the man up and over the beast's back. Her free hand rested on his back to steady him as she sliced her scythe through the crowd of soldiers attempting to swarm her steed, mowing the demons down with ease.

Kento writhed and struggled to kick one leg up, unsteadily straddling the steed. He felt Iris's armored arm coil around his torso and hug him firmly against her.

"Where's Cye?" Her distorted voice shouted over the pandemonium and she craned her head to peer over his pauldron. All at once, Iris caught glimpse of a glimmering streak trailing the man's flushed face, and he managed only a choked sob.


	43. Chapter 43: Serenity

Warm, golden rays of sunlight glowed through the trees. There was the slightest breeze, picking up fallen leaves and rustling branches and blooms.

Standing in the quiet of the graveyard, Dais nipped carefully at the shrubbery surrounding its perimeter. He had dutifully undertaken the caretaker's obligations, trimming foliage and cleaning headstones, and to his displeasure had conceded he finally understood her fondness for the tasks. There was a meditative serenity in their completion, and the _crack_ with which each limb succumbed to his shears was satisfying.

Behind him, he could hear Yuli rough-housing with White Blaze; the tiger, naturally, was using his gentlest paw in play. Mia dawdled nearby, busying herself with reading the gravestones nearest to her position.

The tiger's chuffing and chortles softened and finally stopped. A faint chill settled on the warm evening air. Dais straightened up and stopped in his work, lingering silently as he listened.

"Mia, take the boy inside." The Warlord's voice betrayed nothing, and his stance remained unmoved, hands still concealed within the lilac bush he was pruning despite no longer trimming it.

"Why?" The woman straightened up with a furrowed brow. "What's going on?"

She saw the ice-cold glare the man offered now, turning to focus a steely eye on her. White Blaze seemed to also be in agreement, no longer teasing Yuli and instead nudging him gently toward the house with his nose.

"Alright," she managed quietly, offering her hand to the child. "Come on, Yuli."

The twosome drifted toward the porch, Yuli pausing briefly to peer back over his shoulder into the graveyard. Seeing nothing, he tucked closer to Mia and they ducked into the house.

A cool breeze picked up through the trees, on it, the faintest metallic jingle.

"Surprised to find me here?" Dais inquired to the silence.

"Not at all." The voice that replied was soft, masculine, with a haunting echo clinging to its tone. "The keeper of this place has always welcomed misfits and misguided souls into her care."

Turning his attention over his shoulder, Dais found the specter to which the voice belonged. The hermit had appeared without warning or sound, standing amid the crumpled leaves of the cemetery grounds. His face remained in shadow, disguised beneath his straw hat, and his golden winged staff was clutched lightly in one hand.

"Watch yourself, monk," the Warlord growled. "I have no allegiance to you."

"No, I would never presume you did," the Ancient acknowledged. "But something tells me you _do_ have allegiance to another. Why else would you stay here, with the woman and the boy?" His head perked up as he saw the slightest flinch in his company's expression. "It is Iris, isn't it?"

"I owe you no explanation," Dais spat, turning his back to the man.

"That is true," he agreed, "but you must know I have figured it out already." He saw the man pause. "I am simply giving you the chance to tell me yourself." Watching the Warlord's shoulders fall a bit, he continued, "you have a great deal of respect for her, albeit begrudgingly."

"She spared my life." The response was quiet.

"She _saved_ your life." Silence answered. "And now she needs your help."

He saw the sneer as the Warlord turned back to face him. There was a deep, furious bitterness in his eyes now, his characteristically unexpressive face betraying the anger boiling beneath.

"And what _help_ could I offer?" Dais jabbed. "Without my armor, I am powerless. Returning to the Nether Realm would be suicide." His eye narrowed, and a venomous, dry smirk crawled across his lips. "Unless you would suggest using me as bait."

The monk watched him in silence. After a moment of deliberation, he lifted his staff overhead, allowing the sunlight to catch within its rings. The orb encased in its wings illuminated, and at first Dais assumed it was merely the sun glinting off its surface, but as he focused on it, it seemed to cast an unearthly glow from within.

The Warlord felt suddenly feverish, warmth rushing to his skin. A prickling sensation danced across his forehead before spreading into searing heat. Reaching up to shield his eyes from the glow, Dais realized the light was somehow emanating from _him_ now. Unyielding luminosity and burning heat radiated from beneath wavy white bangs. He managed to bring his fingers to rest against his brow, expecting to find scorched flesh, but instead found the warm sensation took on a distinct shape beneath his fingertips. He crawled his hand across his skin, slowly recognizing the lines reflected in temperature as the strokes of kanji.

Just as soon as he had deduced the markings, they faded, the heat and light vanishing with them. Dais's fingers trembled as they withdrew from his face and his cold grey eye drifted up to meet the monk again.

" _What was that_ ," he growled.

"Serenity. The virtue of your spirit," the Ancient One replied. "You give power to the armor, not the other way around. It is why Talpa used you, and the other Warlords. He can control the armors physically, but he cannot give them strength. Only the human soul can do that."

Dais remained in a stunned silence as he considered the monk's words. A soft jingling echoed through the gravestones, the rings of the great winged staff lifting on an unseen wind. Warmth spread across the Warlord's body, soft and comforting and distinct from that which he had experienced before. A translucent golden glow crawled over his skin, trailing up his fingertips to trace over his arms and shoulders and across his chest like ribbons. The light abruptly materialized, solidifying into plates of dark, forest green and pale silvery-blue metal. He took a startled step backward, the familiar clanking of armor accompanying his feet.

"This is the armor of the Ancients," the monk declared.

"Your armor?" Shifting on his feet, Dais felt the sheath of a sword brush across his back. He peered over his shoulder to find a pair of upstretched golden wings, then reached back to grasp them. Drawing the weapon, he found its hilt resembled the crest of the Ancient's staff, and its mighty blade was etched with kanji.

"It is not as powerful as yours," the Ancient cautioned, "but it will protect you. And like yours, it gains strength from your spirit. The sword will draw power from the virtue of whoever wields it." His voice grew grim. "Be vigilant, Dais. Your presence can either help or hinder the Ronins in their battle, depending on the choices you make."

The man did not move to acknowledge his words. His gaze drifted down to his own hand, clasped around the sword's golden hilt. He tilted it in the light, allowing the sun's rays to glint off the ancient writing etched in its blade. A cool breeze trickled over the leaf-strewn ground, and when he next looked up, Dais found himself alone in the cemetery once more.


	44. Chapter 44: Betrayal

Ryo hit the ground, pain surging through his veins. His swords clattered just out of reach and he let his head slump down against the damp, mossy soil as he gasped for breath. He felt the ground tremble as Anubis's armored foot stepped between him and Cale, and heard the distinct _swoosh_ of his weapon as he swung the weighted claw in preparation.

Wildfire pushed himself up with the heel of his hand to roll over. The Warlords were so much more powerful than he remembered. He watched as Anubis lunged for his former comrade, his sickle clashing against the man's sword with such violent force the metals sparked. Where Cale had so easily taken him down, he now struggled against the Warlord of Cruelty, whose strength rivaled his own. Anubis tossed the man backward with a single sweep.

"We do not have to fight each other, Cale," Anubis insisted. "If Talpa prevails, our fates will be the same."

"Silence! I'll hear no more of your lies!" Cale barked. He raised his sword overhead, an icy chill settling across the forest and bolts of darkness charging toward his blade.

Anubis was quick to intervene, again lunging for the Warlord and this time slinging the weighted chain and claw toward him. The weapon landed its mark, coiling around his wrist, and Anubis forcibly yanked at the chain to throw the sword from his hand. Cale resisted, balling his fist and tugging his arm close to his chest, but his strength appeared to be no match for his opponent as he was pulled to the ground.

Ryo had slowly recovered, finally drawn up into a sitting position. A faint growl crawled from the trees behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he found a scattering of glowing red eyes lingering in the shadows, the animalistic snarling growing louder.

Anubis drew his chain close and darted his eyes around the dimness. A fluttering sounded overhead and he looked up to find what little traces of sky had been visible through the leaves were snuffed out by black figures. Cale let out a low, malicious chuckle that finally erupted into full-blown cackling.

"This is _my_ domain," Cale growled. "Every creature here will obey me."

Ryo felt his hair stand on end as the red eyes drew nearer, and finally the wicked beasts to which they belonged emerged from the darkness. Terrifying, skeletal faces gleamed in the dim light now, vicious, grinning skulls attached by mere threads of leather, black sinew. They resembled various mortal creatures: wolves, smaller wild cats, with leathery hides in place of fur coats revealing their thin, seemingly malnourished forms.

Above, more creatures closed in, these resembling large birds of prey with oily black feathers. Bony feet with crooked talons crawled slowly down the branches toward them. Anubis clenched his jaw and slung his weighted claw to put it in whirling motion.

"Face it, traitor. You lose." Cale took a step toward them. "You are no match for Master Talpa's power. I look forward to bringing him your head."

A tense moment passed without movement. Growling and snarling, the beasts took steps forward to enclose the men in a circle, then inched ever closer. Warm, hot breath trilled over Ryo's shoulder and every muscle in his body flexed, his fingers curling into fists against the mossy ground.

One of the creatures took a slow step past Wildfire. Another followed suit. Quietly, skeletal feet shifted and slinked past the warrior, and again past Anubis. Several seconds passed before Cale realized the beasts were disregarding his opponents to close in on him.

"What is this treachery?" Cale snarled, taking a step back. His calf backed against a cold, hard form behind him, and looking back he found a canine-like skull glaring up at him. An icy dread mulled in the pit of his stomach, but it was quickly overtaken by boiling rage. " _How dare you defy me_!"

A low humming trembled over the beasts' growling. The sound quickly escalated to a raucous rumbling, before finally erupting into a thunderous roar. Blackened leaves shivered and tree trunks shuddered.

A great, horse-like creature burst through the brush, digging its hooves into the mossy soil to halt itself. Through the darkness, its riders became visible: a dark, looming figure swathed in a black, hooded cloak with its arm coiled securely around a suit of vibrant orange armor.

" _Kento_?" Ryo pulled himself up to his knees, brows furrowed.

" _You_ ," Cale roared, vicious eyes settled on the phantasmal armor sitting atop the beast.

Iris kicked her heel up and over the beast's back, landing softly in the mossy soil. She was swift to draw her scythe, eyes focused sharply on the Warlord through the twilight.

"It's over, Cale," she said carefully.

" _Get her_ ," he snarled toward the obsidian beasts, who merely growled in response. He felt a snout buck up against his leg from behind in warning.

"They won't." Her voice was confident, her gaze unyielding. "Their allegiance lies with me, as should yours."

"I would sooner die!" He lunged for the woman with sword overhead. She met his blade with the snath of her scythe, easily bunting him back and darting forward to clash against his sword again.

The sound of scraping metal reverberated through the trees as Iris pursued the Warlord of Corruption. He retreated slowly, his backward steps still defiant even as she advanced against him.

A glint of light speared through the darkness. Iris caught Cale's blade in the heel of her scythe, holding the weapon in tension as her eyes met his. A great, piercing sound like shattering glass echoed mutedly against the tree trunks, and light splintered in the shadows as the great sword fractured and split apart.

A horrible, agonized scream shivered past the Warlord's lips, a sound somewhere between man and beast. He sank to his knees, digging his fingers into the metal-flecked moss, his gaze poring over the gleaming shards.

"Your Nether beasts have betrayed you. Your sword has failed you. You're out-numbered and out-powered," Iris said, looking down on the Warlord quietly. "You will not win this."

"That is where you are _wrong_!" Cale shot up from his crouched position, slashing at the woman with the broken shard that remained of his sword. Using the shaft of her scythe to block, Iris retreated, parrying as she rapidly swept backward.

" _Quake With Fear_!" The response was swift. Flashes of red light burst through the darkness and chains erupted in all directions, ensnaring the Warlord and pulling him up off his feet and away from the caretaker. Iris stumbled as his weight was ripped back from her.

Cale struggled only briefly against the chains, his furious growling and yelling echoing through the forest. " _This isn't over_!" A cold, swirling black mass materialized around him and consumed him. Moments later, he was gone, chains left slack where he had been.

Anubis crossed the mossy ground as the chains retracted, quietly removing his helmet with Iris following suit. Approaching her, his arm coiled around her waist and drew her close.

"I thought it was too dangerous for you here." He held her firmly against himself, concerned eyes meeting her through the dimness.

"So did I," she admitted.

Kento finally, slowly slumped and slipped off the equine creature's back. He dropped to his knees in the damp soil and drove the end of his staff into it, clutching it with one hand for support.

"Where are the guys?" Ryo asked, pushing up to his feet and taking a few steps toward his friend. He halted in his path as Kento's head abruptly sank, and a small sob trembled his shoulders.

Anubis's blood ran cold and his gaze darted back to his wife. He found sorrowful eyes looking back briefly before she closed them and lowered her head.

"They're dead," Kento managed, his voice hoarse and crackling.

Iris felt the Warlord's arm tighten around her, beckoning her to look at him again. "Is this true?" She offered a faint nod.

"I lost Rowen in the chasm." Her voice was soft. "Sage was already gone."

"And Cye?" Wildfire remained frozen in place, his heart racing. His question trembled with the tremor in his stomach, butterflies of pure, cold read fluttering in his chest.

"Dais's armor." Hardrock's fist clenched tight around his weapon, his free hand planted on his knee and visibly shaking. "It grabbed him and pulled him under the sand." The man's voice trailed off, his words broken with a quivering whimper.

The great, skeletal beast on which they had arrived ducked its head down, its icy skull gently nudging at Kento's shoulder before rubbing against his helmet. As he realized what was touching him, the warrior jolted and yanked his shoulder away.

"Man, what is the _deal_ with this thing?!" he demanded, his voice still muddled with grief.

"It's drawn to the Oblivion," Iris confessed, "and it seems to be reacting to what I'm feeling."

"Great," he muttered, "just what we need, a creepy horse thing following us around."

"That creepy horse thing saved your life," she countered tersely. "And it tried to save the others." Her statement silenced the man, who exchanged a brief glance with the eyeless sockets of the beast's face and grimaced.

"Talpa now has six of the armors," Anubis stated grimly. "And the Oblivion is in his realm."

"Kaosu told me to come here." Iris's voice was firm. "That you would need me. And I'm not leaving until Talpa is dead." It was a statement the Warlord clearly found unsettling, his jaw clenching and arm hugging her firmly closer.

"So we need a new plan." Ryo was knelt beside Kento now, his hand settled on his friend's shoulder comfortingly.

"The creatures," Anubis said, "can you control all of them?"

"As far as I know." Iris looked up, revealing that the bird-like monsters still lingered amid the branches overhead, bony faces watching them intently.

"We will use that to our advantage." He released the woman from his grasp and stepped forward to face Ryo and Kento. "The time for subtly has passed. We storm the castle with every beast at our disposal. And prepare yourselves." His voice lowered, "it may be that the only way to stop Talpa from forming the bridge between these worlds is to take some of the lives he plans to use before _he_ does."


	45. Chapter 45: Staves

"So the Oblivion is now in the Nether Realm."

The haunting, ghostly visage of the emperor materialized against the darkness of the throne room. Hollow eyes surveyed the dimly lit corridor to find a single presence: that of Cale in scarlet underarmor. He was silent, but as he lingered there the slight trembling of his form became apparent. His fists clenched at either side shivered furiously, his jaw clenched so tightly it brought his eye to twitch.

" _Sekhmet_ ," Talpa roared unexpectedly. "I am growing tired of your tardiness."

The blue flames of the candelabras quivered, and an eerie mass emerged in the darkness. Finally the menacing figure of the Warlord of Venom appeared. His condition was far worse than that of his comrade; vivid purple bruising mottled up his neck and the side of his face as if someone had slung paint across it. His lips bore the rusty tinge of dried blood, and keeping his eyes open was a fierce struggle. He managed to lift his fist to his chest and bow only slightly, a gesture that he found himself unable to rise back out of.

"My apologies, master," Sekhmet sputtered, closing his eyes and resolving to his weakened state, "my wounds are severe."

"Yes," the emperor acknowledged, "but I am pleased with your triumph against Sage of the Halo and Rowen of the Strata. You have done well."

A tense moment of silence passed. Talpa's attention shifted to Cale, a soft, growling hum of contemplation escaping him.

"You are unusually quiet, my Warlord of Darkness."

The words seemed to set off a chain reaction within the man. A furious growl crawled passed his lips and finally his teeth bared.

" _Why does that woman have control of my Nether beasts_?!" Cale bellowed, every word laced with unbridled rage. " _I_ am the master of these creatures! _I_ am the Warlord of decay and darkness!"

"Silence!" Talpa commanded.

"Master Talpa," Sekhmet managed, his voice soft. "I feel there is something you have kept from us. Something about this armor."

The response was swift. Sekhmet was thrown back off his feet by an unseen force, his body noisily slung to the ground. He grimaced and grasped his chest in pain, at first struggling to keep himself upright but finally slumping against the carpet.

"Tread carefully, Sekhmet," the emperor cautioned, "my patience with you has worn thin."

"Master?" Cale inquired. His breath was ragged from fury, but there was the slightest tinge of uncertainty in his voice now. "Why does the Oblivion armor have such great power here?"

"The Nether Realm is the Oblivion's domain," he said finally. "It is the very core of its existence, the darkness from whence it came. The armor and this realm are intertwined. Now that the girl has realized its power, she is capable of controlling this realm and the creatures within it."

"How do we defeat her?"

"You don't." The response was blunt and simple. "It is far too powerful for either of you to defeat on your own."

"That is impossible!" Cale barked. "The armor may be powerful, but she can be no match for us! Allow me to prove it to you, master. I will kill the woman myself!"

"My Warlords, you have remained loyal to the Dynasty for centuries, and I assured you great reward in return," Talpa replied. "The time has come for you to become part of something greater, to exact my rule over the mortal world."

Sekhmet had pulled up onto his elbow, beady eyes meeting the hollow mask of his master. _Talpa wants to rule the world, not share it_. The man felt his blood run cold. Every fiber in his body seemed to be screaming, his stomach heavy with dread. He struggled to keep his breath even and his face unreadable. _Could it be the Ronins were right_?

"Concern yourself not with the girl." The emperor's eyes flashed brilliant red. "I will deal with her myself. Bring me Wildfire, Hardrock, and Anubis."

* * *

"Where the hell am I?"

The words seemed to echo as he said them, though there was no surface they could have reverberated off of. Looking around, Rowen found nothing in his surroundings; he was in a suffocating darkness, standing somehow without ground beneath his feet. Or was he? The void was disorienting, and after several conscious moments he was unsure if he was actually standing upright. Looking down, he found his armor had vanished, replaced now by a black kimono with a sapphire blue collar and black hakama pants.

"Rowen?" The familiar voice called out through the darkness.

"Sage?" A soft accent followed, "is that you?"

Rowen turned in a circle, trying to pinpoint the voices. "Cye? Sage, where are you guys?"

"Over here!" Cye called back.

Rowen was not quite sure where "here" was, but nevertheless he started walking ahead. The void warped around him, the ambient temperature fluctuating from an icy chill to the warmth of a summer day.

The darkness felt endless, and yet just as abruptly a glimmer appeared in the distance. Within moments, Cye appeared to materialize before him; he, too, was dressed in a black kimono, his collar a brilliant ocean blue.

"Sage?" Rowen called into the void.

"I'm here." The voice echoed behind him, and Strata reeled round on his heels to find the blond, his black kimono accented with a collar of emerald green. His breath escaped him; the last time he had seen his friend, he was vanishing into a shadowy chasm. He reached out and clasped his hands on Halo's shoulders before pulling him into a tight embrace the man returned.

"What is this place?" Cye inquired, troubled eyes shifting around the darkness.

"How did you get here?" Sage released Rowen and fixed his attention on Torrent.

"I was fighting Dais's armor in the desert." He frowned. "It disappeared, then suddenly it ambushed me and pulled me under the sand. Next thing I knew, I was… here. Wherever 'here' is."

"Wait, Dais's armor?" Rowen's brows furrowed. "Who was wearing it?"

"No one. It was empty. Like someone was controlling it." Cye perked his brow. "How did _you_ two get here?"

"The chasm in the valley," Sage replied. "But I thought I brought Sekhmet down with me."

"Talpa must have control of this place," Torrent noted, "he decides who comes here."

"So then the real question is, how do we get out?"

"Hang on." Rowen's arm extended across his friend, his eyes peering through the darkness. "Are you guys seeing this?"

Cye and Sage followed his gaze across the void. A chilling breeze picked up from nowhere, raising the hair on their arms as their eyes settled and adjusted. Standing in the emptiness, a familiar, ominous figure lingered, black cloak wafting around its shoulders, a large, wicked scythe in hand. The skeletal face of the Oblivion armor stared back, the sockets of its grinning skull black and hollow.


	46. Chapter 46: Siege

"Man, this thing smells like _death_ ," Kento lamented. The creature's eerie grin turned to peer at him, nudging a bit at his arm. An attempt to whinny resulted in a grotesque, quivering squeal and Hardrock grimaced as his hair stood up on end.

"It's half-skeleton," Ryo noted incredulously, "what did you expect?"

"Are you done?" The warriors turned their attention to Iris to find her unimpressed expression glaring at them over the back of her steed. Ryo offered an apologetic half-grin before mounting the skeletal beast. Kento remained firmly planted on the ground, struggling to will himself to follow suit. "If you do not get on that horse, I will heave you up there myself—"

"I'm goin', I'm goin'," he huffed, finally, cautiously pulling himself on to the beast's back.

"So what exactly is our plan here?" Ryo asked, "just storm the castle with an army of undead things?"

Anubis watched the man with a fierce intensity for a moment, searching for a better response. Finding none, he nodded slightly, "yes, exactly."

"You don't have to tell me twice," Kento said, tucking his curled fist into the palm of his other hand. "Let's do this."

"We protect the Oblivion at all costs. If it falls to Talpa, this war is over." Anubis's voice was grim as his eyes shifted across the faces of his company. Ryo and Kento nodded affirmatively, but he found the uncertain eyes of his wife watching him silently through her face mask.

* * *

The eastern gate.

Dais had warned the Ronins to stay far from it, as behind it lay the main foyer of the Emperor's castle. Any disturbance would be quickly acknowledged and met with force.

And yet here he stood, staring into the starry abyss swirling within the gate's open doors.

He clenched his jaw and took a confident step into the darkness.

The Warlord of Illusion hardly noticed the warping of the world around him. He was accustomed to it, having traveled between these worlds so many times. Briefly he wondered if he should have taken a moment to appreciate this time.

In case it was the last.

Just as swiftly as the thought emerged, he shook it away. There was no time for reminiscing as he stepped into the grand hall, unlit and cold and unwelcoming. Blue flames rapidly blossomed and spread down the candles lining the foyer, illuminating deep crimson and gold-gilded walls. The entirety of castle would be aware of his presence in minutes.

Dais stood silently in wait, arms lingering at his sides.

"You have some nerve showing your face here again."

Just like clockwork. He scanned the shadows dancing in the corners for the Warlord of Corruption.

"Or a death wish."

He saw the serpent first. A flash of dark green and vivid scarlet in the darkness. Dais made no move for his weapon as the Warlord revealed himself, slowly emerging from the shadows. There was something different about his former comrade now. A tinge of some expression lurked beneath the surface of his indifference, though he could not quite place it even as their eyes met.

"That armor you're wearing," Sekhmet said, "it looks nothing like the others."

"Because it is not like the others." Dais's words were firm, his gaze unwavering.

"It belongs to that monk," Cale sneered, his form still concealed within the hall's darkness. "That gold hilt is unmistakable."

"Face me like a man, Cale," Dais demanded.

A tense beat passed before he obliged. The Warlord stepped out into the candlelight, blue flames illuminating his crimson face mask. Almost instantly, Dais pinpointed something amiss: the long, distinct bamboo sheath of Cale's sword was missing from his back. Instead he carried a sickle, unquestionably that of a Dynasty soldier.

"Is that what you consider yourself now?" Cale snarled. "A man?"

"Demoted to the weapon of a minion," Dais jabbed.

" _Silence_!" The Warlord raised the sickle menacingly. "I will stand for _nothing_ from your traitorous tongue!"

"It was the girl, wasn't it?" The slightest smirk tugged at the man's lips as he saw the subtle change in Cale's demeanor: the fist that clenched the sickle handle tighter, the arm that trembled from the tension in his shoulder, teeth that bared like a beast. "You underestimated her and she made a fool out of you."

A furious, feral growl snarled past Cale's teeth as he launched himself at Dais, drawing the sickle over his head and driving it down with fearsome strength. The sound of metal clashing reverberated through the hall as Dais drew his sword and met the blade in a single, sweeping movement. He rebutted the Warlord and dodged to his right, where he found Sekhmet drawing his blades and prepared for a strike.

The mighty sword engaged the serpent's katanas, and Dais confronted Sekhmet's gaze. Doing so, however, he found that same unusual countenance, something swirling beneath the Warlord's skin. His eye lingered in the snake's beady stare, and finally he saw it: hesitation. Dais furrowed his brows.

He had little time to contemplate Sekhmet's uncertainty. A mighty blow struck his back as Cale approached from behind. Dais's knees buckled and he dropped to the floor, his grasp on his sword faltering. The anticipation of strikes from Sekhmet's katanas flashed across his mind, but they never came. He wrenched around from his kneeling position, swiping the great sword at Cale; an agonized howl suggested his strike had landed, and he saw the man stumble backwards.

Dais surveyed the Warlord for damage as he got to his feet, searching for telltale spatters of crimson across the castle floor. He found none. As Cale recovered from the blow, he revealed an unscathed chest plate where Dais expected to find a wound. A low, slow cackle crawled past the Warlord of Corruption's lips.

"You missed," he taunted.

He lunged again at the Warlord of Illusion, who swiftly dodged and darted backward. The chaotic sound of metal on metal echoed mutedly off the walls as they dueled down the hall. In the brief moments afforded to him between strikes, Dais glimpsed Sekhmet, at first lingering in place before finally pursuing them. He joined in the fray beside Cale, the pair quickly threatening to overwhelm him as he parried their blows one after another.

Dais's eye darted around the foyer to place himself. There were countless doors and corridors branching off from this main access point, some with dead ends, some that would only bring him deeper into the castle grounds. He needed an escape route.

Relief arrived as a dark, hollow passageway to his left that he recognized as the path to the palace courtyard. Dais backed up step-by-step toward it, baiting Cale and Sekhmet to follow. His own movements were entirely on the defensive now, blocking and parrying and dodging the twosome's blades. He needed only to protect himself long enough to draw them into the open grounds.

The three combatants erupted from the castle into the courtyard. Dais stumbled and struggled to stay on his feet, finally breaking free of his former comrades' onslaught and darting backward away from them. He remained on defense, his sword raised and eye focused keenly on them as he attempted to catch his breath.

Sekhmet's gaze was the first to budge. Beady pupils shifted somewhere above their opponent, and hairless brows furrowed in confusion. A distant, inhuman wail followed, tearing through the sky overhead and drawing Dais's attention over his shoulder. At first, a single black figure emerged, sweeping through the murky clouds to cast a large shadow over them.

A faint whooping trailed the shadow, growing rapidly louder into a thundering din pierced with otherworldly screeches and howls. Seconds later, more shadows burst through the clouds, and it was now as they began sweeping downward out of the sky that their form became apparent: great, feathered beasts with skeletal faces and oily black wings. Dais's brows furrowed as the creatures blanketed the nebulous horizon. _They are coming from outside the castle_.

A ferocious, infuriated growl from Cale drew his attention back into the courtyard, barely allowing him time to dodge the man as he lurched toward him. He caught Dais's arm with the sickle's blade, cleaving open the gauntlet shielding his wrist. Dais stumbled to the ground, sword tumbling from his hand.

A black shadow dove out of the clouds, its beak clashing against the ornamental horns of Cale's helmet and knocking it askew. In the seconds allowed by the confusion, Dais glanced behind the Warlord to find Sekhmet also under attack from one of the winged beasts and struggling to reach his other katanas.

" _Snake Fang Strike_!" The serpent finally succeeded in assembling his weapon, and fiery orange light blazed through the creature and into the sky, taking out several others in its path. The gap was quickly permeated by more of the fell beasts, with more sweeping down to strike the men.

Dais quietly coiled his fingers around the golden sword handle, piercing gaze focused on the wicked flock. But as he lifted the blade and rose from the ground, he realized none of the creatures had moved to attack him, even as he got to his feet.

Beneath the chaos, another sound quivered through the air. A thunderous roar like a stampede of horses rolled through the piazza, trembling the ground underneath them. Dais struggled to draw his gaze away from the frightening image of shadowy beasts carpeting the sky overhead, finally pulling his attention to the massive entrance of the courtyard. The doors shuddered violently as if they were being struck on the other side, accompanied by loud, calamitous banging.

There was a shrieking, splintering sound as the gates gave way and the doors tore open. He saw the grinning skulls of the beasts first, equine and hollow and attached to leathery necks by black sinew. They charged into the grounds as a small clutch of four, bringing with them the scent of moss and decay. Dais had seen these creatures before, inhabiting the dark forests elsewhere in the Nether Realm and from which he had been sure to keep his distance.

And then he saw them: riders. The beasts were not alone. Two vivid figures in gleaming crimson and burnt orange, a third in muted brown and purple-grey, and a final spectral rider marked by a billowing black cloak. _Impossible_.

" _Dais_?" The voice was unmistakable. Iris's tone betrayed confusion, disbelief, as she heeled her hellish steed to a halt. It reared up briefly before settling black hooves back into the sand, and the creatures on which Anubis and the Ronins rode followed, lining up along each side of hers.

"Your timing is impeccable," Dais replied, a wry smirk crawling over his lips.


	47. Chapter 47: Nine

"Dais, man, what the hell are you wearing?" Kento wasted no time in his scrutiny of the peculiar forest green and grey-blue armor.

"Sophisticated as always, Hardrock," Dais quipped. "This is the armor of the Ancient One." As if influenced by the man's statement, the golden rings circling his sword's hilt vibrated and jingled slightly. Though he briefly acknowledged the response, his furrowed brows and curious eye shifted back to them. "I believe the better question is, what the hell are you riding?"

"Don't ask me," Hardrock declared, "this is all Iris."

When the Warlord's attention moved to her, Iris's hand came to rest against the equine beast's sinewy neck. It shifted on its hooves uncomfortably now, reflecting her discomfort as the silence settled.

"It's the armor," she affirmed. "They're drawn to it. All of the creatures here seem to be."

"Enough chatter!" Cale snarled. He lunged for Dais, his footsteps a heavy giveaway. His target dodged to the side just a single step, turning to catch the sickle against his sword blade.

Sekhmet followed his comrade's initiative and sprang forward toward Anubis. The man reared the Nether beast to guide it back and away, driving his sickle down to block the serpent's blades. Black shadows dove out of the sky toward them, pecking at their shoulders and arms with vicious force.

"I assume that is you as well!" Dais shouted back to the woman.

"So. You have discovered the Oblivion's true power."

The voice was haunting, deep, and terrifyingly loud, rolling like thunder through the courtyard. Within seconds, the avian creatures began disintegrating in the sky, painful screeches and howling tearing through the air. The equine beasts whinnied nervously.

" _But it will not save you_."

The declaration was punctuated by a sweeping wave of heat. The beasts on which the warriors were saddled were violently thrown back, tossing their riders from their backs, and moments later they vaporized into black smoke. Anubis made move to crawl toward his wife, but Sekhmet was there to stop him; he crossed his katana blades beneath the man's jaw to immobilize him.

From the darkness of the corridor leading into the piazza came booming footsteps. Finally, a ghastly shadow emerged; a monstrous form somewhat larger than a human, encased entirely in metallic armor. It was a strange, pale purple-grey, monochromatic and spectral. Tendrils of white hair snaked out from the helmet, and as the dim light struck its mask, it was revealed to be hollow, with black, empty eyes and a wickedly gaped, fanged grin.

Anubis felt his blood run cold. The form of emperor was no longer incorporeal. Ocean green eyes shifted to his former comrade and a chill crept down his spine as he found the serpent's own beady eyes now wide and shocked at the sight.

"He is whole." Dais's voice betrayed discomposure.

"Talpa?" Ryo's brows were furrowed as he slowly got to his feet.

"Oh man, he is _not_ what I was expecting," Kento confessed.

"When did this happen?" Anubis demanded, his eyes unmoving from Sekhmet. Venom's gaze slowly pulled away from his master and settled on the man, his lips slightly agape but his voice silent.

"When he consumed your pesky little Ronin friends!" Cale barked.

"Now, my girl, it is time for you to surrender that armor." The emperor's grisly form took a few calculated steps forward before finally lunging toward the woman.

There was a scream and a clash of metal, and Anubis's heart plummeted into his chest. He had jerked against Sekhmet's blades, blood drawing from the small lacerations beneath his jaw. As the commotion settled, he found the emperor looming over Iris, blade drawn and quivering just over her body. The weapon had been halted by four others: Wildfire's katanas, Hardrock's bo, and Oblivion's scythe, all lapped over one another.

"Not happening, buddy." Kento was the first to break engagement, jerking his staff upward to shove Talpa's sword back. He stepped to plant himself between the demon and Iris, bringing his weapon into a spin above his head. " _Iron Rock Crusher_!"

The attack tore through the courtyard toward the emperor, shredding rock and gravel to either side of the chasm it created. But as it neared the demon, he simply lifted an armored hand, the attack deflecting and barreling off to his side.

"Whoa, _what_?" Hardrock's confused words had only barely escaped him when a strangled cry cut through them. Talpa's blade swiped the air in retaliation, a vicious wind slashing across the warrior to take him off his feet. He hit the ground with a painful clattering and skid, his head lolling back and his body unmoving.

Kento lay like a broken doll for only a few moments before an eerily familiar greenish fog rose from the soil around him. Spidery tendrils coiled around his limbs and the bright, burnt orange metal of his armor dissolved away, before finally the soil itself began moving to consume him. The ground shifted and lulled, the dirt rapidly burying the man without protest.

" _Kento_!" Ryo cried, fists clenching around his katanas.

A malevolent, thundering laugh rolled from Talpa's empty facemask. There was a sudden streak of red that bolted across his visage now, his mask taking on a vivid scarlet red color.

Sekhmet's blades slowly dropped away from Anubis's throat. He seemed transfixed by the demon's form, his pale skin somehow further drained of its color. Iris scrambled to her husband's side, her arms reaching out to embrace him.

"A valiant attempt," Talpa admitted, "but useless. You, and your world, will fall."

" _No way_!" Ryo growled. He charged for the demon, katanas overhead, leaping forward to drive them down toward him. It was an assault the emperor easily countered, sword clasped in a single hand and parrying the blades with a quick sweep. Talpa tossed the warrior back and thrust his blade forward toward him.

" _Wildfire_!" Anubis had recovered, pulled to his feet by Iris. His response was swift, weighted claw slinging over his head in circles before he released it to wrap around Talpa's blade. As the mark landed, he pulled, yanking the sword away from his comrade with only seconds to spare. Ryo hit the ground, but wasted no time in clambering back to his feet.

The attack came without warning. Cale darted past Dais, sickle keeled back to create a mighty force behind it as he thrashed at Anubis. The clashing of metal reverberated through the courtyard as his weapon was met with another: the Oblivion scythe. Iris had managed only barely to catch the sickle before it struck. In the distraction afforded, Talpa wrenched his sword free of Anubis's chain.

The emperor moved like a wraith, his steps swift but inhumanly light as he dashed forth to engage Wildfire. The warrior caught his sword between his crossed blades, struggling against it as the demon bore down.

A chilling sound cut over the air, like glass splintering and shattering. Glints of silver flashed in the dimness as they rained down into the grass. The swords of Wildfire had shattered under the demon's mighty blade.

" _RYO_!"

Iris's voice was shrill, and it crackled in horror. The man crumpled at Talpa's feet, the haunting green mist seeping and snaking around him. Just as quickly as he had fallen, he was gone, vivid crimson armor vanishing amid the fog and body buried beneath the piazza soil.

Silence fell as streaks of dark grey bolted across Talpa's armored form. The plates of his underarmor filled with a dark, midnight blue metal. He turned slowly, blood red mask settling on the band of warriors remaining.

"A fascinating turn of events," Talpa noted. "My demon generals are all that remain."

"We no longer serve you," Dais declared.

"And I give you one last chance to change your mind."

Dais's chin lifted defiantly and he sneered. " _Never_."

In his boldness, the Warlord of Illusion did not hear the footsteps approach. They were quick, and the attack swift; Cale coiled his sickle around the man's neck and pulled him back against his own body, a strangled grunt crawling through Dais's teeth and his sword clattering to the ground. He reached back to try to grab hold of the jackal, struggling against the blade slowly pressing a laceration into his flesh.

Neither man noticed the green mist rising from the soil at their feet. There was a sudden chill that drew Cale's attention down, and finally he saw the rolling plumes crawling up their legs.

"Master Talpa?" There was the slightest tinge of uncertainty in his voice now, and he nearly withdrew from his struggle with Dais as the dark brown plates of his armor dissolved away. But as he released his former comrade and tried to lift his foot for a step, he found both were submerged in the soil and swiftly sinking. His voice was almost shrill, shivering as he called out, " _Master_?!"

Their struggle was brief. Both disappeared beneath the courtyard, a fate Dais seemed far more resolved to than Cale, whose free hand continued to claw at the grass as it was sucked underneath the soil and muffled cries slowly suffocated and silenced.

Iris lingered in stunned silence, scythe clenched firmly in her hands. Terrified eyes shifted to Sekhmet, whose expression was muddled with disbelief. Hairless brows wrenched under his mask and beady eyes moved to meet hers. He made no move to speak. Seconds later, the haunting fog snaked up his legs, forest green armor disintegrating and, just as rapidly, his feet sinking into the soil. He managed to wrestle a single foot away and took a step back only for it to vanish beneath the dirt again. There was a brief, fleeting flash of regret that flitted over his face as he looked up to gaze at Iris and Anubis before being buried.

A glint of silver speared through the dusk. Six blades jutted out from the demon's back, fanning out in a pattern not unlike Dais's former weapons. His form was ever more ominous now, and an eerie red glow flashed in the empty eyes of his mask.

 _Staves of spirits nine_.

"Iris."

The woman slowly peeled her gaze away from the vacant ground where Sekhmet had been standing, looking up to meet Anubis's eyes. She found an intensity in their depths and felt suddenly breathless.

"You remember what I told you," Anubis pressed. "Protect the Oblivion at all costs." She nodded wordlessly. "I know you can defeat him."

He saw the slight furrow of her brows and drew her close, taking in a deep breath. There was a clinging stench of death, decay, the sick, mossy scent of the armor. But beneath it, he caught a tinge of something sweeter: lilacs. The aroma lingered in her thick locks of hair, unmistakable and familiar. Finally, he released his breath in a brief sigh.

Iris felt his arms slack over her shoulders and his form slump against her. Leaning back, she shifted his weight in her arms to find his head hanging limp, and as she moved her eyes along his body, she saw it: his fingers loosely curled around the snath of her scythe. A strangled cry escaped her as she sank to her knees, his body hugged desperately against hers.

The malicious laughter that echoed around her hardly registered in Iris's mind as she let Anubis's head roll back into her palm. Sickly green mist curled up around them, and as its tendrils began coiling up their limbs, her breath halted. Her heart wrenched as she released his body into the fog, prying her hands away and pushing back onto her feet to scramble backward out of it.

As his body vanished beneath the mist, she finally heard the wicked cackling, taunting her, mocking her. She pulled her eyes up from the ground to meet the empty mask of the emperor. That vicious flash of glowing red crept through his mask again as his growling voice crawled through his fangs.

"It is over, girl."


	48. Chapter 48: Harbinger

"How did you all get here?"

That voice. It seemed faraway and yet somehow simultaneously nearby.

"Is everyone here?"

He recognized the warmth and softness of that tone immediately. Turning in place, he became suddenly aware of the darkness around him, suffocating and endless, so deep and black that he was unsure if he even had his eyes open. He called out blindly into the darkness.

" _Cye_?"

"Kento?" The voice was quick to reply, laced with anticipation and concern.

Peering into the void, Kento found the faint twinkling of stars. He took a step forward, though how, exactly, he could not be sure; looking down, he saw no ground beneath his feet. His armor was gone, and so, too, were his usual clothes, replaced instead with a black kimono accented by a fiery orange collar.

"Where are you?" Hardrock called back into the void, struggling to conceal the quiver in his throat.

"Just keep walking!" his friend replied, "you'll find us!"

 _Us_? He took several more cautious steps, still unnerved by the emptiness below him. Finally, emboldened, his pace quickened, and he took off into a jog. Around him, the void changed, first a heavy, humid chill that clawed at his lungs before dissipating. As the chill disappeared, the twinkling stars sharply materialized into forms he recognized: Rowen, Sage, and Cye.

The world briefly closed in around them, Kento's heart bucking against his ribs. He rushed forward to his friend and practically threw his weight into him as his arms coiled around him.

"Easy, Kento!" It was him. It was truly Cye. His arms embraced his comrade, laughing as his heels were lifted from the ground by the force of the man's hug.

"So what is this place?" Another familiar voice. Kento quietly tucked his face against Cye's shoulder to press away the sprinkle of tears clinging to his lashes before pulling away. Ryo stood among them now, collar of scarlet red folded across his chest. Blue eyes shifted to Sage and Rowen. "Are we dead?"

"We don't know," Sage replied.

"This is not what I imagined death to be like."

The warriors turned on their heels. Dais lingered only feet behind them, fuchsia collar and silver hair gleaming. His trademark eye patch was missing, and underneath a thick, wavy lock, they caught a glimpse of a pale blue-grey eye.

"Your _eye_." They were the only words that came to Kento's mind, and as they fumbled past his lips he saw both of the Warlord's steely blue eyes roll.

"Keen observation, Hardrock, thank you," came Dais's sarcastic response.

"You know, you might have been a pretty handsome dude if—"

" _Enough_."

"So this is how it ends."

The low, chilling voice drew their attention into the void. Sekhmet appeared amongst them now, black kimono trimmed with a violet collar. His beady eyes betrayed nothing, focused on no one, his arms hanging listlessly at his sides. "This is the great honor we were promised."

" _He betrayed us_!" The furious voice snarled through the emptiness. Cale's form emerged from the blackness, grey-collared kimono nearly camouflaged. His shoulders were hunched, his fists clenched, and as they settled their attention on him they found his crossed scar no longer marred his face. "He made _fools_ of us!"

"The only fool here is you," Sekhmet replied coldly. "The truth was there all along. Only you followed him to the very end like a blind puppy."

Cale let out a furious growl and lunged at the serpent. Sekhmet managed a near-dodge and threw his balled fist forward, grazing his former comrade's jaw. The jackal grabbed a fistful of his collar and yanked him closer.

"HEY, _whoa_!" Two tanned, muscular arms wedged between the men, quickly separating them. Kento's palms planted firmly against each Warlord's chest, an unnecessary gesture for Sekhmet who simply stared coolly back at Cale as he lurched forward against it. "As much as I'd _love_ to watch the two of you whale on each other, it isn't gonna do us any good, alright? So knock it off."

"The Oblivion armor." Dais's voice was curious, a tone that drew his cohort's attention to him. He had discovered the empty suit and was circling it cautiously.

"Yeah, we know," Rowen replied. "Iris isn't in it, though."

"Are you sure?"

"What do you mean? Of course I'm sure," Strata spat indignantly. "Look at the mask."

"So you did not notice it is animate?"

"What?"

"The armor is moving." Dais nodded his head toward the Oblivion's hooded helmet. Though the motion was slow and strange, it was unmistakable: the grinning skull tilted upward, and its skeletal fingers curled.

"Whoa, no," Kento spat, giving both Cale and Sekhmet a small shove as he turned to face the armor. "I don't like that at _all_."

"Quiet," Dais hissed. Reaching up, he gently pushed against the suit's shoulder. Slowly, deliberately, the helmet craned and turned at the neck as if looking at its pauldron where his hand lingered. The Warlord narrowed his eyes briefly. Circling around to its other side, he curled a fist, reeled back, and landed a punch against the opposite shoulder. A skeletal hand crawled up and slowly clasped around the shoulder where it had been struck.

Iris's shoulder jerked back as if struck by something unseen. Quickly, she reached up to clasp it, her brows furrowed. Her eyes shifted back up to the emperor, unmoved, before darting around the courtyard in search of the force.

"She can sense me," Dais remarked. The helmet turned again, its empty mask seemingly searching.

"Dais?"

The voice brought the men to a halt, breath hanging in their chests. It was incorporeal, but it was undoubtedly Iris.

"Iris," Dais pressed, watching the hollow skull for confirmation. "can you hear me as well?"

Iris twisted at the waist to look behind her, turning on her heels ever slightly. She found nothing in the piazza, and her brows furrowed. "Where are you?"

Watching the armor turn, the Warlord quipped, " _do not_ turn your back on him!"

The woman quickly complied, turning back to face Talpa. Though his mask remained emotionless, a small, low chuckle crawled through his teeth as he found the confused expression on her face.

"You hear them," Talpa remarked coolly, "I have succeeded."

"Where the hell _are_ you?" Iris pressed.

"We don't know," Rowen replied, approaching the hollow armor cautiously. He halted a bit as the helmet shifted to acknowledge him. "We're in some kind of void. Like a black hole."

She felt her hair stand on end beneath her helmet. Gold-flecked eyes did not budge from Talpa as her mind began to race.

 _Staves of spirit nine forge the bridge_.

"The Oblivion is the bridge," she breathed.

"What?" Ryo took a step closer, his head shaking lightly.

"I know where the armor came from." Iris clenched her scythe closer. "The Oblivion armor belonged to Talpa when he was a man. It manifested out of the Nether Realm itself. A bridge between this world and ours."

"So the monk finally dignified you with the truth," Talpa taunted. "The legendary armors have restored my body, but only the Oblivion can allow me passage into the mortal realm. A bond which requires human souls to complete it."

"He's fused you into the armor," Iris deduced. "Spirits nine."

The statement brought them pause. They had not noticed until that moment that they numbered only eight. Cye's face fell as he exchanged glances with Kento.

"Iris," Sage said carefully, "there are only eight of us here."

Talpa's malicious cackle erupted as he saw the girl's face drain of light. "Anubis's sacrifice was noble, but foolish. The Oblivion requires only nine. Eight within it, and one to bear it. The monk so kindly provided that, with one to spare."

"One of them was going to bear it for you," she managed weakly. " _Who_?"

"My girl, I know you already know the answer to that." He watched as she sank back from his presence, withering in his shadow. "He may have been the youngest of my Warlords, but he was the most powerful, a man destined for greatness. It is a shame he forfeited that for you." His words lingered on the air for several moments before he spoke again, "though all is not yet lost."

Talpa took a step toward the woman, noting the step she took backward. "You are far more powerful than I anticipated. But more than that, you have conquered the armor, surpassing even my own mastery when I wielded it."

"I don't like the sound of this," Rowen said uneasily.

"You feel it," he continued. "The hunger, the power. I felt it when the armor came to me as well."

"You kept the Oblivion safe from Talpa all this time," Ryo insisted, "you were the only one the Ancient could trust with it. You _can't_ let him down now."

"What has that monk ever given you in return for your servitude?"

"Iris, don't listen to this guy!" Kento charged toward the empty armor now. "He turned on his own Warlords!"

"I can give you glory!" the emperor roared. "You will be the harbinger of my reign. Imagine, dominion over the mortal realm. You could have anything, everything you desire or could want for."

Slowly, the demon's armored hand reached out to her. Iris gazed at the gleaming metal for a long, silent moment, scythe still clutched near to her chest. The warriors hung in stillness, horrified glances exchanging across the void as they watched the Oblivion's skeletal arm reach up and outward toward an unseen presence.

Her hand lingered in the air over his, gold-flecked eyes focused on the bony metal encasing her fingers.

"There is only one thing I have ever wanted," Iris declared. Withdrawing her hand, she clasped her fingers tight around her scythe, fiery gaze shifting up to meet the empty eyes of the emperor. " _And_ _you have taken it from me twice now_."

The words rolled off her tongue in a determined growl as she raised the scythe overhead.


	49. Chapter 49: Sacrifice

A bright white light cut across the courtyard and the clashing of metal trembled the great stone walls. Talpa met the scythe with his own sword, easily deflecting it. What he had not anticipated, however, was Iris's adeptness with the weapon, as she swiftly spun it and repeated the blow to his opposing side. The emperor thrust his blade forward and she dodged aside, preparing again to attack.

" _Phantom Soul Reaper_!"

A great, sweeping chill whipped up from the soil to envelope her. A ghostly bluish glow illuminated the weapon, wisps of ghastly flames licking the snath. Leaping up and forward to meet his height, Iris swept the blade overhead and drove it down, plunging the cold metal deep into the demon's chest.

A long, tense moment of silence followed. The Ronins watched anxiously as the Oblivion armor stood motionless, its hands gripping an invisible weapon.

"Iris, what's happening?" Sage queried.

A red glow illuminated within Talpa's mask, and he released a low, slow cackle. Wholly unfazed, he reached up and coiled his cold fingers around her back, closing painfully around her ribcage. With a brief squeeze and tug, he plucked her away from her weapon and tossed her aside like a broken toy. Iris hit the grass on her side and skid through the soil.

" _Iris_!" Rowen had just barely pulled Sage out of the way of the armor as it was slung across the void. A chorus of horrified gasps and cries echoed his concern and they waited with wrenched brows for signs of life.

The Oblivion trembled a bit before slowly rising on its elbows.

"Come on, Iris, talk to us!" Kento urged.

Rolling over, she looked across the courtyard to find the emperor still standing. He grasped the scythe's snath and withdrew the blade from his chest, dropping it unceremoniously into the grass. Metallic fibers wove across the wound to seal it shut.

"The scythe didn't hurt him at all," Iris managed.

" _What_?" Cye's worried sea green eyes shifted to Rowen.

"I gave you an opportunity," Talpa said coolly, feet pounding with each calculated step toward her. "A chance to live. I am afraid that offer has now expired. And you made a very unwise decision, Oblivion." Reaching the woman, he bent down and wrapped his fingers around her torso and effortlessly lifted her from the ground. As he squeezed, the metal of the armor creaked, visibly buckling, and finally a grotesque _crack_ accompanied by a gut-wrenching wail tore through both the piazza and the void.

" _He's gonna kill her_!" Kento's voice cracked and his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles blanched.

"STOP IT!" Ryo shouted, a cry that was met only with malicious laughter.

Iris struggled against the emperor, wheezing painfully, reaching her arms out to claw at his. Though he was only about twice the size of a normal human, it was sufficient to allow his fingers to encircle enough of her that she could not escape his grasp. She took a breathless gasp that only brought her lungs to burn, and she kicked her legs viciously to try to wrench herself free.

Talpa thrust his arm out to slam her back against the castle wall. Leaning in to press on her body, he brought his mask down to meet hers.

"I cannot kill you until I have successfully passed into the mortal realm," he noted. "But you will be wishing for death when I am through with you."

"Iris."

The voice was sudden and startling, reverberating through the void.

"Ancient One!" Rowen declared. The men's eyes darted around the darkness, Dais circling in place in search of the monk.

"Kaosu?" Her voice strained to breathe the name.

"Where is he?" Talpa's eyes glowed that eerie red as he growled the words.

"The Oblivion scythe will not help you in this battle." The Ancient's voice was calm, comforting, even as its statements were grim. "The scythe is capable only of wounding mortal beings. It is why you have carried it without harm, immortality by extension of the Oblivion armor. Talpa will be equally unaffected by your weapon and attacks."

"Then how do I beat him?" Iris's words were stunted, tinged with pain.

Somehow, she was bypassing the emperor's omniscience, communicating with the monk without his hearing it. It was a realization that infuriated him, and in his rage he slung Iris to his side with all his might. " _I will find you_ , _monk_!" he roared, "and I will guarantee you watch the girl die!"

The warriors stood helplessly in horror as the Oblivion slumped against the void's absent ground. Dais closed his eyes momentarily, clenching his fist. Iris's labored breathing echoed in the darkness, the faintest groans of pain wheezing through it. Sekhmet stepped closer to stand beside his former comrade, his bare brows knitted.

"The Sword of the Ancients." The monk spoke again. "It is the complement to the Oblivion scythe."

The Warlord of Illusion paused, silent in revelation. This was the true reason he had been tasked with bearing the Ancient's armor and weapon to the Nether Realm.

Lifting her head, Iris looked across the grass to the golden, ringed hilt, glinting in the darkness where it had fallen. She reached forward slowly, quietly, worming her way over the soil toward it.

The footsteps booming behind her did not prepare her for the great armored foot that abruptly drove into her back. A strangled sort of sound escaped her as she was robbed of breath by its force and she slumped her head against the ground once more.

"If you knew what was good for you," Talpa taunted, pressing his foot down, "you would disregard the monk. He is only prolonging your suffering."

Iris felt the sharp tips of the demon's talons graze her neck and shoulders as he planted more weight into the foot pinning her down. Her ribs compressed further beneath him, and she could hear the faint groaning of her armor's metal as it threatened to give way. Managing only a shallow gasp, she turned to allow her head to lay entirely on its side in the grass.

"Come on, Iris," Kento said quietly, "you can't let him win."

"This must be _especially_ painful to your friends." The emperor's voice still carried that sick arrogance, that mocking tone that made it clear he was enjoying the struggle. "You have a chance to end this. Cooperate, and your death will be merciful."

Iris closed her eyes, gritting her teeth as his claws scratched at her armor. She took a slow, shallow breath through her nose, releasing it in a low growl, "I _am_ death." Opening her eyes, she lifted her head and craned her arm out toward the golden sword.

Trembling fingers finally coiled around it to draw it into her closed fist, but as she did so, a sharp sensation spread through her veins. The barb-like prickling feeling quickly gave way to searing pain, as if she had grabbed a hot poker fresh from the fireplace. She cried out in agony and dropped the blade again, letting her quivering hand rest on the cool grass.

"What just happened?" Ryo demanded. Talpa's amused laughter trilled through the void.

"The sword is the complement to the scythe," the monk's voice repeated. "Where the scythe harms only mortals, the sword wounds only immortal beings."

"She _is_ immortal," Cye murmured in sick realization. A terrifying silence settling over them and their eyes came to rest on the motionless armor sprawled across the darkness.

"Iris, only you can choose if it is a sacrifice worth making."

There was a single, choked sob that shivered through the void. The woman allowed her head to slack again, pressing her forehead against the ground. Her body trembled, the Oblivion trembling with it as she whimpered and stifled her cries. The warriors felt their hearts wrench, jabbed and wounded by each muffled tear. She had endured so much already.

"Ancient One," Rowen pleaded, "there's _gotta_ be something we can do to help."

"We can't just stand here," Sage agreed.

Stillness responded, and for a moment they wondered if their guardian had finally abandoned them. Finally, he spoke again, his voice soft, "there may be."

"Tell us," Dais demanded.

"Your mortal souls still have the ability to influence the physical world."

The Warlord pondered his words briefly, his mind racing to piece them together with other thoughts. "The sword cannot harm mortals." As he mumbled the words, his battle with Cale flashed through his mind; the man had been left entirely unscathed by the mighty blade. _Mortal souls_.

Suddenly he moved across the void to the armor, quietly kneeling at its side. An ivory hand reached out from his black kimono sleeve to approach the outstretched left arm. It was motionless, mirroring its physical manifestation that still surged with pain as it lay in the grass beside the great sword. He brushed the cold metal with the tips of his thin fingers before finally bringing the entirety of his palm to settle on the top of the Oblivion's hand.

There was a tiny hiccough and the armor's wicked grinning skull lifted slowly to look toward his hand. Dais stretched his fingers to meet the length of the Oblivion's. The whimpering tinged with terror quieted.

Kento inhaled deeply through his nose and dutifully marched to the armor's other side. Kneeling, his robust suntanned hand came to rest against its right hand, curling just enough to hold it reassuringly. A brief, awed gasp escaped from its bearer and the fingers twitched as if acknowledging him.

Cye followed just behind his friend, settling gentle fingers against the armor's wrist. Ryo, Sage, and Rowen swiftly joined them, Wildfire's fingers curling around the Oblivion's gauntlet as his comrades each enveloped an upper arm.

A seventh hand snaked out of the darkness, and the men looked up to find Sekhmet looming behind them. Pallid fingers stretched out, then finally, firmly planted themselves on the armor's pauldron.

So consumed were they by shock that they hardly noticed the final figure approaching. A rough, bear-like hand reached forward, decisively clasping the opposite shoulder. As bewildered eyes collected on him, Cale said nothing. His jaw simply clenched, and he nodded determinedly.

Iris counted as each sensation came. _Eight_. Even Talpa's most obedient Warlord had turned on him now. Hot tears brimmed her eyes and finally spilled over her cheeks, her breath suddenly hitched and sharp. Gritting her teeth, she reached forward again and clenched the golden sword in hand.

Daggers stabbed at her hand and wrist flesh, blossoming rapidly into fiery waves that rushed through the veins of her arm. She felt the phantom fingers of her comrades squeeze her, dulling the pain and urging her on. With a burst of determination, she wrenched to twist at the waist beneath Talpa's foot and turned the sword in hand to thrust it backward. The mighty blade pierced through the emperor's shin, emerging through his calf to a loud, horrible roaring.

Talpa quickly retracted his foot from the woman's body and staggered back, howling in furious agony. Iris clambered to her feet, briefly stumbling as her lungs filled with burning hot air and her vision whirled. Over the confusion, she heard a distinct, terrifying sound: that of metal cracking. Looking down, she found a fault crawling up her arm, threatening to expose the flesh beneath.

She clasped her free hand around the hilt to stabilize it, the same blistering pain tearing through it as well. Another crack, and she saw the spidery fissure spreading up from her wrist. Her time was quickly running out.

"We've got you!" Cye assured her.

"Yeah, go get 'im!" Kento declared.

Iris took a resolving breath. Raising the blade, she charged forward and leapt into the air, the horrible splintering growing louder as the fractures crawled across her chest plate to meet. Light glinted off the golden blade as she plunged it into the emperor's chest.

An inhuman roaring gurgled and tore across the castle grounds. Talpa's clawed hands reached out to grab the woman by her sides, but it was too late. The sword embedded in his chest and drove through his back, a scorching heat ripping through him. His fingers closed tighter around Iris, the fissures spreading like a broken egg shell across her form. She felt the sweltering wave of power surge against her skin as the metal of the Oblivion shredded and peeled away from her. A brilliant golden light flashed, enveloping her vision.

And just as swiftly, inky black bubbles dotted across it before she was finally plunged into pure, cold darkness.


	50. Chapter 50: Resolution

_Iris_.

She heard the name, and at first did not even recognize it as her own. It passed through her mind like a ghost, fleeting and intangible and bewildering.

 _Iris_.

It was more insistent now, and this time it did not merely flit through, but instead flung itself across her consciousness and latched on. Coming to awareness, she found nothing but darkness and an unusual warmth like that of a summer breeze enveloping her.

 _Am I dead_? As the words escaped her, she realized she could not determine exactly how they did so: she took no breath, felt no movement of her lips, no vibration of her throat. Indeed, though she sensed the warmth surrounding her, it puzzled her, as an attempt to wiggle her fingers or shift her arms went unheeded by phantom limbs.

 _No_. _Open your eyes_.

Willing herself to comply, her vision flooded with bright light, and with it came a noisy rush of air into her lungs. The world amid the light was blurry, disorienting. She blinked again and again, pressing her lids firmly shut each time, warm tears pouring over her cold cheeks.

Finally, the light softened, and her surroundings came into focus and took shape. Around her, the sky stretched endlessly, a vast pool of glimmering stars splashed against deep, ocean blue. The silver shimmer of the moon bathed her in light, and looking down she found the dark, malevolent metal of the Oblivion was gone. Her body was swathed in gleaming white silk flowing over her like water, her bare feet peeking out from beneath it, and below them, darkness.

She struggled to focus her eyes, finding fuzzy swatches of color in the shadows. They seemed to engorge, and all at once she realized that she was descending into them. The shadows revealed themselves as trees, dark foliage flecked with slumbering blossoms. Shifting her gaze back to the sky and turning her head, she caught the distinct silhouette of Mount Fuji stretched across the horizon.

 _Aokigahara_. It occurred to her briefly that perhaps she should have been frightened, but as her feet and legs submerged into the forest's darkness an overwhelming calm remained. She passed through the gnarled, black branches unscathed, and her eyes moved to her feet as they came to touch the ground.

" _Iris_!"

She knew that voice. Warm, strong, and tinged with unbridled joy, it preceded pounding footsteps and a bolt of burnt orange glowing against the forest's shadows. Seconds later, she was swept up in a powerful embrace, feet effortlessly lifted from the mossy ground.

Kento hugged the diminutive body against his, whirling around on his heels with the woman in his arms. Hearing the small laugh she released made his heart jump.

"Hey, hey, easy," Sage chastised, "she could be hurt!"

Hardrock quickly but tenderly placed Iris back on her feet, stepping back to place her at arm's length and examine her. In her peripheral, she saw the flashes of familiar colors: red, cobalt, emerald, aqua. Ryo, Rowen, Sage and Cye moved to join them. Her gaze moved across each of their faces in turn, and finally a relieved smile and breathless laugh cracked across her face. The smallest sparkle of tears in her eyes mirrored those now threatening the five of them as well.

Kento's lip trembled before he moved in to embrace her again, this time joined by his friends who enveloped the caretaker in their arms. She managed to worm her arms out of the hug, tenderly cupping each of their heads in turn and pressing a kiss to their faces.

As the warriors relinquished their hold on her, Iris caught glimpse of the other figures lurking among the trees with them. A rough, rugged looking man with wild blue hair and a pallid, green-haired man each knelt on one knee in the grass. Had she not recognized the armors they were wearing, she most certainly would not have known who they were, their exposed visages unfamiliar. But gazing on them long enough now she also saw the deep, cross-shaped scar and beady, purple-lidded eyes she could pinpoint as belonging to Cale and Sekhmet.

Her eyes followed them to find Dais, once again in his trademark magenta armor, wavy silver locks catching the scant moonlight piercing the trees. He was seated fully on his knees, and as she squinted to discern his figure, her blood ran cold. Two dark, dusky indigo legs stretched out from across his lap.

Iris pushed out of the Ronins' arms and past them, feet light across the mossy forest floor as she ran to Dais. Her heart thundered in her chest as she approached, Sekhmet and Cale looking up before bowing their heads quietly to her; in his arms, the Warlord of Illusion cradled Anubis. Auburn hair clung erratically to his pale face. Ashen lips hung slightly agape. She watched and waited for the brown coat to rise with his breath, but none came.

Her vision blurred with tears as she sank to her knees at his side. Dais's eye moved up to watch her momentarily, his gaze softening. Quietly, he reached out to offer the man's body to her, surrendering him to her arms and backing up to rise on one knee and bow his head.

"This isn't what you promised me." It was the smallest whimper, barely audible as it rasped past the woman's lips. Iris reached her fingers up to tenderly brush the errant hairs away from Anubis's face, its lifeless chill threatening to rob her of breath entirely. "You said you would never leave me again."

Cye pressed his curled fingers against his lips and closed his eyes. Kento's brows furrowed and he willed himself to turn away, his heart wrenched against his ribs. Ryo struggled to swallow the tightened lump in his throat, and looking to his friends he found Rowen's lowered head and even Sage's stoic face marked with tears.

A faint, metallic jingling stirred their attention away. A glimmer within the darkness, and just as abruptly, the familiar figure of the Ancient One emerged, glowing ethereally among the shadows. Though he tried, Ryo found himself unable to will his voice to speak; he simply parted his lips and lingered wordlessly before pressing them shut again.

"Ronin Warriors," the monk declared, "you did it. Talpa and his evil Dynasty are no more. It is my honor to stand among you."

He saw the attempts at smiles that flickered across their faces, but the melancholy was undeniable. He gently tipped his hat in acknowledgment to them, then walked forward through them toward the Warlords.

As he approached, Dais, Cale, and Sekhmet rose slowly to their feet and turned to meet him. Words failed them as they gazed on the monk, who merely offered a soft smile in return.

"You are free." He paused to observe them. "Your armors have been cleansed of Talpa's wickedness. Perhaps now you can discover their true purpose. Protector, healer, peacemaker." The Ancient nodded to Cale, Sekhmet, and Dais in turn as he spoke.

"But what do we do now?" Cale inquired slowly.

"Yes, what happens to us without the Dynasty?" Sekhmet added.

"You now have a choice to make," the monk replied. "To return to the Nether Realm, or to remain here in the mortal world."

"The modern world would never accept us," the serpent confessed quietly.

"The Nether Realm will require protection. To ensure that no other such as Talpa rises to power again."

"Then I will return to it," Cale affirmed.

"As will I," Sekhmet echoed.

The monk's head shifted to acknowledge Dais. He was silent for a long moment, and slowly he turned his head over his shoulder to peer behind him. Catching only glimpse of Iris's figure in his peripheral, he returned his attention to the monk.

"I choose the mortal world."

He saw the slight turn of his former comrades' heads, though he easily ignored them. The Ancient seemed only to nod knowingly.

The rings of his staff reverberated, and silently he reached his arm out to offer the talisman to Sekhmet. The serpent's brows furrowed, but finally he obliged, fingers coiling around the staff as the Ancient surrendered it to him. A vivid flash cut through the forest's shadows, and the monk now revealed the glimmering golden sword that had defeated the demon emperor. He brought its blade to rest across his open palm and offered it wordlessly to Cale. The Warlord's eyes skimmed the mighty sword before his hands cautiously lifted to meet it, and its wielder withdrew his own hands.

"The staff and sword of the Ancients will help you in your endeavor," he stated. "Allow their light to guide you."

The men respectfully bowed at their waists to him. He took a step forward, coming nearly nose-to-nose with Dais. Instead of addressing him, however, he merely nodded his head. Dais accepted the gesture and stepped aside, revealing Iris behind him.

The Ancient One took a moment to study her. She had cradled Anubis against her now, his temple rested on her chest as she rocked slightly back and forth. A soft hand lovingly stroked his hair as if comforting a child, her free hand clasping one of his. Her breath escaped as occasional, brief sobs, drawn in through quivering lips, and her eyes had not budged from her husband's face.

The monk lowered to his knees at Anubis's free side.

"Iris." She made no move to acknowledge him, and an empathetic smile came across his lips. "Svnoyi." The name was spoken with a tenderness that finally coaxed her to look up, exposing a rosy, tear-streaked face. _So much pain_. "You destroyed Talpa. You saved humanity." Awe and admiration punctuated his words. His hand rose from his side and came to rest on her hand holding Anubis's as it lay against his chest. "But it came at great cost."

He paused as a pained, guttural cry cracked through her teeth. The sound of something so deeply broken it could never be repaired. "You have given so much more than should have ever been asked of you." Her head lowered and her eyes clenched shut as she struggled to stifle herself. "I can never truly repay you for all you have done. But there is one final exchange I can offer."

The Ancient One's free hand reached up and his fingers came to rest under her chin, gently lifting it. He leaned forward to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "Thank you, old friend."

A comforting warmth flooded the chilled forest air. For a brief moment, the mossy stench of the earth vanished, overtaken by the sweet scent of cherry blossoms. Threads of gold glimmered and spread through the monk's robe, rapidly growing until he was illuminated entirely in a bright glow; its intensity forced all those present to close and shield their eyes.

Just as abruptly, the light dissipated, and the forest was plunged back into darkness. Opening their eyes and squinting to help them adjust, the warriors found themselves alone in the clearing, the Ancient's spectral form now absent.

Iris's lips trembled and she managed a small, sharp breath as she searched the immediate darkness for the monk. A scattering of soft pink blossoms was all that remained, strewn across the mossy soil. The blooms swiftly withered, blackened, and curled up.

She felt the smallest twitch beneath her fingers. Furrowed brows looked down to her hand, certain she had only imagined it. But another twitch followed, the tips of Anubis's fingers shifting in her grasp. There was a sudden gasp, gurgling and cracking as if breaking through lungs full of water. His lids fluttered, struggling to open, but soon she saw the deep, ocean green sparkle of his eyes.

He let his gaze shift around the darkness before settling on her. As the fog obscuring his mind parted, he felt the warmth of her fingers as they held his, and he offered them a small squeeze. He felt cold, almost numb, but recognized the slow beating of a heart that seemed to skip and bound erratically in his chest before growing constant. "Iris?"

The name brought a fresh wave of tears to her eyes, quickly spilling over her streaked, flush cheeks. A confused but overjoyed sob escaped the woman and she released his hand to wrap her arm around him, pressing him into her body.

The Ronins took a few small steps forward, craning their heads to decipher the commotion. It was Ryo who first saw the Warlord's feet shift, and finally he appeared as though life had been breathed into him fully as he reached his arms up to embrace his wife.

"He's alive," Wildfire confirmed.

"The Ancient," Rowen murmured, "he must have given his life to trade for Anubis."

A forlorn silence settled heavy on the men as the realization struck.

"A sacrifice worth making." Cye's gentle voice broke the stillness. "That's what he always said, isn't it?" Returning their gaze across the trees, Iris had helped Anubis into a seated position, her arms wrapped desperately around his as if he might disappear if she let go. She wept freely now, every pent up emotion spilling over to rack her body as her husband hugged her tenderly against himself.

"You're right," Sage agreed, nodding slowly.

Cale knelt before Anubis, who gently patted Iris's back to gather her attention. Drawing back from him, she turned to face the jackal, and Sekhmet knelt to join him.

"My lady," Cale said, bowing his head respectfully. It was a greeting that brought her to tilt her head, bewildered by its civility.

"You have the heart of a true warrior," Sekhmet acknowledged, "and you have saved us all."

"This is where we leave you, my friend." Cale's gaze moved to Anubis. "We shall return to the Nether Realm, and see to it that this threat does not come again."

Anubis nodded. "Perhaps we will meet again, in another lifetime."

"May that be many long years in the future." Sekhmet offered a soft expression and a hand to his former comrade, a gesture that was kindly returned and then exchanged with Cale.

Iris suddenly looked around as a thought crossed her. Finding Dais standing a few steps away, she carefully got to her feet and walked to meet him. Their eyes met wordlessly, and in hers he saw a slight melancholy. She reached her hands out to him, palms up. His own ivory hands stretched out to meet them.

"I have chosen the mortal realm." His voice was resolute, and the change in her face was almost immediate as her eyes lit up. "If you will have me." Her reply came without a word, her hands releasing his to allow her arms to coil fully around his shoulders. The hug was sincerely, if awkwardly, returned.

The Ronins had joined them now, and Cale and Sekhmet turned to greet them. Their exchange was brief, respectful nods and only five parting words:

"Be vigilant," Cale remarked.

"Farewell, Ronin Warriors." Sekhmet raised his staff, the rings vibrating and ringing softly. The landscape seemed to warp around them, and abruptly they were gone, a brief glimmer like stars lingering in their place before vaporizing entirely.

"So what happened to the Oblivion?" Kento's question came slowly, cautiously.

"It's gone." Iris's reply left no doubt.

"You're sure?"

"I can feel it," she confirmed. There was a soft smile, but a tinge of sad longing lingered in it. Her eyes moved across the dark, shadowy trees, previously the heart of her armor. "There's no more darkness, no emptiness in this place now."

"So you're mortal again," Rowen deduced.

The words hung on the air in a haunting stillness. Anubis rose slowly to his feet, his steps still wavering and unsteady as he limped to his wife's side and brushing his fingers gently down her arm. Iris looked down at his hand before curling her fingers around it, and this time the smile that came across her face had no looming melancholy beneath it.

"A second chance at a normal life."


	51. Epilogue

"I don't know about this."

The desiccated remnants of old leaves crunched underfoot. A cool spring breeze quivered through the trees, fresh blossoms dancing on it like delicate flames. The sun had quickly vanished below the horizon, leaving only an unearthly orange glow in its wake, a vast, cobalt ocean of twinkling stars overhead.

"Stop being such a wuss!"

"This place is creepy!"

"Are you kidding?" The rustled footsteps abruptly stopped. "Look at this, it's beautiful!"

The soft bluish light of a flashlight beamed upward, revealing a lush tree looming above. Its branches were full of clusters of soft purple blossoms, which seemed to illuminate and gleam like pearls in the light's path.

"Oh wow. I guess you're right. Is that a lilac tree? I've never seen one this big before, it must be ancient."

"Hey, look at this."

The piercing beam of the flashlight moved down the trunk of the tree before settling just beneath it. A single sandstone grave marker jutted out from the grass, its face softened by age.

"Who's it for?"

"Looks like a family grave. 'Koma.' I think it says Ir—"

"Can I help you?"

The voice was startling in the darkness, and the cold bluish light of the flashlight whipped around. There was a warmer glow amid the other graves now, an antique lantern that lingered motionless in the air for a moment before bobbing ahead.

"Visiting hours are over," the voice continued. As crunching footsteps approached, a silhouette emerged from the darkness. Finally, the lantern rose to illuminate the gentle face of a man, middle-aged with a sun-kissed complexion. Violet eyes twinkled as they settled on the two young boys huddled at the base of the great lilac tree.

"We're sorry, sir." It was a dark-haired boy who wielded the flashlight, dark eyes obscured by the shadows skewed across his face. "We just—we've heard about—"

"The ghosts." The man's statement was hard, but after a long moment, he finally chuckled softly.

"Are they real?" The second boy had scooted close to his friend, his mousey brown hair wild about his head and grey eyes peering up through the darkness.

"Of course they are." Seeing the small retreat the twosome made, he smiled. "Ah, but you needn't be afraid of them." The caretaker slowly lowered his lantern into the grass and sank down to sit, his elbow propped up on his knee. "Has anyone ever told you the story of the ghosts of Muhimura?"

Seeing the slight shake of their heads, he smirked. The legend was much different now than that he had been told by his grandfather decades ago. The story of a vengeful, jilted bride had finally faded from Muhimura's legacy, no small feat but one which the caretaker took very seriously. He motioned them closer to recount the tale, as he had so many times before.

Centuries ago, a great samurai and his bride were torn asunder by greed, separated by the vast oceans of time and space. Lifetimes later, they were reunited, and in the darkest hour of man they rose together with their noblest comrades against a demon emperor bent on destruction. Just as it seemed all was lost and humanity had met its end, they made the ultimate sacrifice, and hope prevailed: the demon was destroyed, and life as we know it triumphed.

In honor of their courage, the samurai and his bride were restored, their chance at a mortal life together finally recognized. Decades passed, and they perished as all men do, and eventually all the days of their long lives were forgotten.

But sometimes still their ghosts could be seen, hands joined in the fading light of the evening sun, wandering the paths of what was once called Muhimura.


End file.
